


Gloves Are Optional

by mehworld



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Light Angst, Original X-men movie, Slow Burn, X-Men Inspired, X-Men References, and of course i picked the power that doesn't let Clarke touch anyone, clarke is rogue, everything is mostly original, first clexa be gentle, loosely inspired, raven is my bff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25659754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mehworld/pseuds/mehworld
Summary: Clarke never signed up for life at Franko's School for Gifted Youth. She never signed up for powers that turned her life upside down. Or for classmates who were literally weapons of mass destruction, if given the right motivation. And she definitely did not sign up to fall for a mysterious fire-manipulating mutant named Lexa. But if she's going to survive her new life and the dangers that come with it, she's going to have to embrace everything with eyes and hands wide open. Gloves are optional.X-Men AU where Clarke is rogue. That's as far as the similarities will take you. Enjoy a slow slow "is-it-even-burning" burn.
Relationships: Anya/Raven Reyes, Bellamy Blake/Echo, Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Emori/John Murphy (The 100), Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 60
Kudos: 263





	1. Franko’s School for Gifted Youth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG - why did I start a new fic? I've been writing this for months and its 70% done? I thought posting would motivate me to keep writing. I love X-men and this idea came and never left, so I had to get it down. Of course, I didn't think it was going to be a 50k+ nightmare when I started. One day I want to write a nice 2k prompt off of tumblr. Until then, enjoy my take on Clarke as Rogue from the first x-men movie, minus the rest of the x-men movie. Feel free to point out any typos and such. It is all my own writing, editing, and madness.

The first time it happened, she was in the backseat of Finn’s car. It was one of those late summer afternoons, when everyone was at the beach and they could have the high school parking lot all to themselves. Finn was getting handsy but Clarke didn’t mind. It wouldn’t be the first time they had fooled around on the cracked leather seats of Finn’s beat up Buick. The smell of cigarettes and sweat permeated the air. Clarke didn’t smoke or care for smoking, but Finn loved it and she loved him, so she tolerated the smell. Finn’s hands found their way into the back pockets of her ripped shorts to squeeze her ass and bring her closer. Clarke gasped, but didn’t let up on her attack of Finn’s lips. She straddled him as best she could in the cramped space, letting her hands dig into his hairline, kissing him deeper. They had never gone all the way, but something about that day felt like it might be  _ the _ day. 

Clark felt a rush of heat kissing Finn, unlike anything she had experienced before. It tasted like leather and salt. She opened her eyes to stop the kiss and comment on the feeling, when Finn started choking. Clark panicked. She pushed herself up grabbing Finn by the chin and neck trying to find the problem. It seemed to make it worse, Finn’s face was turning blue as he clawed at his neck. The warm feeling Clark felt earlier came through her hands, almost burning. She tried to pull back but found she couldn’t let go. Finn grabbed her wrists to pull her off, but it was as if she was super glued to him. Now, the burning was coursing from her palms and the place where Finn’s hands made contact with Clark’s wrists. Finding no alternative, Clark wedged her foot between her and Finn kicked against Finn’s chest. Finn flew a few inches back, hitting the window with a heavy thump. Clark fell back, hitting her shoulder against the car door, a hiss of pain escaping her mouth. The heat left her hands and wrists as she detached from Finn’s skin. Clarke felt dizzy. She looked up to see the windows had completely fogged over.

Finding herself, Clark’s heartbeat started to slow and her hands tingled like she had touched an electric current. She inspected her palms and wrist, finding no clue as to what had just happened. Breaking from her search, Clark remembered the boy she loved was still in the car, and he wasn’t moving. Clark scrambled back up to her knees, moving quickly to Finn. She made to grab him but stopped a breath away from his face. Fighting the urge, Clark balled her fists and allowed herself to look at Finn. If it wasn’t for the paleness if his face, Clark would have sworn he was sleeping. 

“Finn?” The word came out quieter than Clark intended. When no response came, a switch went off in Clark’s head. The kind of switch she’d only felt once before with her dad.

“Finn?!” Clark yelled, but Finn didn’t stir. Clark felt a cold sweat overcome her. Careful not to touch Finn again, she grabbed Finn’s collar and pulled him up. The first thing Clark noticed was the weight. The only other time Finn had felt that heavy was when they had play fought as children and he would dump his body sideways on top of hers. Being smaller, Clark would always struggle to wiggle out from under his prone form. Finn would laugh but never help her by moving his weight. He called it playing dead, and Clark never thought she could hate a memory more than she did now.

“Finn Hudson Collins, you better not be faking,” Clark growled, shaking Finn by the collar. All that achieved was causing Finn’s head to roll forward. Clark stared at the crown of Finn’s head, his usually lush locks of brown hair hanging limp and dull. A few strands of his hair fluttered as Clarke’s breath blew across it in harsh puffs. Clark didn’t acknowledge the tears starting to streak down her face. All she could manage to do was whisper Finn’s name. Hoping he would hear it if she said it enough times. But he never did.

Now, here she was at a school for ‘gifted’ youth. It didn’t make any sense. She should be in jail right now. Something she did to Finn had killed him. She was sure of it. But no one believed her. There were no marks on his body, just a bump on the head where he had hit the glass after Clarke’s desperate kick. His death was ruled natural; an asthma attack they said. Finn had never had asthma as long as Clark knew him.

Clarke had spent a week locked in her room replaying every moment, trying to figure out what went wrong. On the first day of the second week, two shadowy figures had visited the house asking for her. They had sat her and her mother, Abby, down. They said that Clarke needed to come with them to keep everyone safe. They explained the school and how everything would be covered. Abby immediately refused but Clark only heard the word safe and agreed. Maybe they couldn’t lock her up, but they could remove her from everyone else. 

Franko’s School for Gifted Youth, hidden at the end of a winding driveway, was a sprawling high Victorian Gothic style mansion complete with tennis courts, pool, and fountain. When Clark arrived, a tall man introduced himself as Gustus Rider, the PE teacher. His size made Clarke believe he really loved PE. He ushered her through a tall dark wooden doorway, infinity symbols carved on each door. Once past the door, Gustus led her down a long hallway with large oil paintings depicting various fruits in repose. When they reached the end of the hallway, he knocked on a door labeled Polaris. 

“Come in,” a woman’s voice seeped through the glass door. Gustus opened the door and stepped into the room. Clarke stood awkwardly outside. When Clarke didn’t follow, Gustus waved her in and pointed to a chair. Clarke walked slowly into the office, the smell of musty books hitting her full force. She stopped halfway, taking in the decorations. Model spaceships hung from the ceiling over bookshelves overstuffed with thick science tombs. A hollow plastic globe sat on the edge of a desk, or what Clarke guessed was once a desk before a pile of papers overtook it. The walls were lined with sun faded space/galaxy themed motivational posters bombarding Clarke with words like COMMITMENT, TEAMWORK, and EXPLORATION. Clarke would roll her eyes, but she knew she was being watched. The woman at the helm of the office was an older brunette with a knowing smile. Clarke wondered if she was also a PE teacher judging from her casual athleisure wear and high ponytail. Once Clarke was fully in the office, Gustus excused himself and closed the door behind him.

“Miss. Griffin. I’m pleased to meet you.” Clarke didn’t respond. The brunette continued as if Clarke had. “I’m Doctor Becca Franko, but you may call me Becca. I run the school you currently find yourself in. May I call you Clarke?” Clark nodded, wondering if that smile ever cracked. 

“I’m happy you took our enrollment offer. I understand that the last few days have been hard for you, and a transition like this isn’t helping, but I’d like to try.” Clark looked away. She had come here to forget what had happened, not rehash it or be pitied. “You might be wondering why you’re here.” Clark finally acknowledged Becca with an icy glare, which Becca expertly ignored. “We take in extraordinary youth such as yourself. We want to help you be the best person you can be to make the world a better place.” If Becca wasn’t taking herself so seriously, Clarke would have barked a laugh. A place with Clarke in it had no hope of making anything better, and Becca should know that. Becca must have sensed Clarke’s anger, because her smile slipped into a worried expression. “I know I must sound like the posters on my wall, but I asked you here for a reason. You may not see it, but you’re a part of something much bigger than yourself.” 

Now, Clarke rolled her eyes, “What’s your point?” 

“You’re special. Very special,” A weaker smile graced Becca’s lips, as if she expected Clarke to take the news badly. 

Clarke scoffed. Undeterred, Becca pulled a file from her mess of a desk and began reading from it, “Clark Abigail Griffin. 18. Honors Student. On track to graduate. Interested in art. Part-time worker at a local cafe. Killed her boyfriend, Finn Collins, a few weeks ago.” Becca closed the file. 

At the last sentence, Clarke’s eyes widened, “You believe me?” 

“Yes,” Becca’s affirmation went off like an alarm in Clarke’s head. If Becca knew she killed Finn, why would she invite her here? Was this a trap? What did Becca want? Clarke began to sit up, eyeing the door. 

“And,” Becca said as she raised her hand in a stop motion, “I know it was an accident.” Clark wanted to make a run for it, but something was physically holding her back. Well nothing she could see, it was more of a weight making her limbs heavy and harder to move. “Please…” Becca nodded to the chair with her head. Clarke felt something release her, and she slowly lowered herself back into the chair. 

“Clarke, you are a member of a subspecies of humans called mutants, who are born with superhuman abilities.” 

A beat of silence passed between them before Clarke shook her head, “You’re kidding me, right?” Clarke again thought to make a break for it, but something about the way Becca was looking at her told her she wouldn't make it. 

“If you would…” Becca extended her hand towards Clarke, who looked down at herself finding she had nothing to give Becca. “You,” Becca said. “I’d like to show you something.” 

Clark rose slowly and took a step towards Becca’s desk, “Your hand please.” 

A new rush of fear ran through Clarke causing her to take a step back, “If you know what you know, then you know you shouldn’t touch me.” Becca smiled sympathetically before digging into a desk drawer. She put on purple latex gloves and extended her hand out again. Clark did not want to know why she had latex gloves at the ready. She didn’t want to trust the woman in front of her, but what choice did she have? It was going to be Becca’s funeral if the gloves didn't work. Clarke extended a hesitant hand and before Clark could blink, Becca pulled her hand in and pressed something sharp into the meat of her palm. Clark yelped and pulled her hand back cradling it to her chest.

“What the fu…” The words died in Clarke’s throat as she watched a drop of blood, her blood, levitating in Becca’s palm. 

Becca removed her gloves, the drop constantly hovering at eye-height. With a movement of her finger, Becca made the blood turn and become flat like red stained glass. Becca studied it for a moment before saying, “O negative. You have had bouts of anemia, and…” Becca moved her fingers again, causing the blood to return to its droplet form. “Your family has a history of leukemia.” 

Clarke wanted to argue with Becca and accuse her of looking up her medical history to use against her but she couldn’t. Not with her drop of blood defying physics and logic between them. 

After a few moments of silence, Clarke said, “My grandmother died of leukemia.” Clarke looked from the blood to her hand. Whatever Becca used left a clean prick mark that was red but not bleeding. Becca slowly curled her fingers into a fist, the drop of blood getting smaller until it was no longer visible, like it never existed, but Clarke had the proof. 

“Now that I have your attention, let me talk to you about your class schedule and living situation,” Becca’s megawatt smile had returned. Clarke slumped back into her seat of her own will and nodded weakly.

* * *

A knock interrupted their conversation, causing Clarke to almost fall out of her chair. Even though Becca had explained things to Clarke for almost an hour, she was still jumpy. 

“Come in Raven” Becca invited a brunette of Clarke’s age into the office. Raven had a cocky smile and a high-ponytail that put Becca’s to shame. 

“Hey Doc. Hope I’m not late,” Raven mock saluted Becca. For her part, Becca seemed to be holding back a laugh. 

“Clarke, please meet Rav…”

“Raven Reyes at your service,” Raven cut in and bowed low, winking at Clarke as she rose. “But you can call me Rocket Girl.” 

Becca shook her head, but her smile never wavered, “Raven will be your roommate and will be in charge of showing you around. Feel free to come to me with any questions you may have once you've settled in. Welcome to Franko’s.”

All Clarke could do was nod dumbly as she left the office. Who are these people? Freaks and flirts? They should start a band, Clark thought to herself as Raven led her back down the fruity hallway, as Clarke had decided to call it. Raven led them up stairs, past classrooms filled with students, desks, chalkboards, the whole nine-yards.

“So you met the Doc. What did you think?” Raven said, slipping her hands into her zippered grey hoodie's pockets.

“She may have missed the class on consent,” Clarke said, massaging her palm.

“Oh no. Did she pull the blood trick on you, too?” Raven smiled and shook her head. 

“Blood trick?” Clarke said, afraid of the answer.

“The Doc is a hemocyte manip,” Raven shrugged.

“A what?” This better not be some weird sex cult, Clarke thought.

“Sorry. Forgot you’re new. Have you ever watched Avatar the Last Airbender?”

Clark scoffed, “Duh, and the Legend of Korra. Nickelodeon did Korra dirty.” 

“Agreed. Well, remember when Katara had to fight that old lady who could bend blood?” Raven whipped out her hands, feigning punches.

“Yeah, that was creepy,” Clarke said, not seeing the connection.

“That’s the Doc but more complicated,” Raven said, grinning. “We couldn’t stop teasing her after that episode came out.”

“Okay…” Clarke found her brain was malfunctioning. It must be, right? Raven was comparing a human to a cartoon character. Still, if she was going to understand anything she needed to play along. “But you called her a hemo-cynip?”

“Hemocyte manip. Hemocytes are blood cells and manip is short for manipulator,” Raven nodded as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “The Doc feels things are less scary and easier to understand if we break them down to their bare scientific elements, but using big science-y words doesn’t always achieve that.”

“Right.” Despite her mother and her father’s gene’s, Clarke was having trouble keeping up. You'd think being the daughter of an engineer and a doctor she'd be able to science-talk with the best of them.

“The Doc must have told you what you are,” Raven said, turning excited eyes to Clarke, curiosity clearly written on her face. 

“She did,” Among other things, like the brief history of mutants, Becca had slipped in Clarke’s “power” as Becca called it. But knowing it didn’t mean she wanted to share it. 

“And? Don’t be a tease,” Raven wiggled her eyebrows.

Clarke rolled her eyes, “I am anything but a tease.” A second later, Clarke realized what she had said and mentally kicked herself. Was she flirting with Raven? Flirting was one of her defense mechanisms. It had saved her from one too many occasions with cops, jerks, and idiots. So far, Raven had turned out to be none of those and Clarke knew she should not be taking out her fear on a stranger trying to help acquaint her to her new life. 

Raven, who was completely oblivious to the machinations of Clarke’s mind, smiled like she was a gold miner in 1949. “Okay. I can work with this,” Raven cackled. 

Clarke shook her head, again admonishing herself for the slip. How could she be making jokes when she could kill people and everything was upside down. Best to get it over with and move on. 

“Becca thinks I’m a kinetic absorber, but it could change,” Clarke said, looking to Raven for recognition.

Raven stopped in her tracks, “You’re an energy sucker?”

Clarke grimaced at Raven’s words. 

“My bad,” Raven said, raising her hands in surrender. “It’s just that in the realm of physical powers, abs are rare.”

“Physical powers?” Clarke said, crossing her arms. Becca hadn’t gone into extensive detail because she had had to repeat the same things multiple times before Clarke was able to digest it.

“You haven’t had ‘intro to powers’ yet, but they’ll explain everything. Let me save you a couple hours of Kane’s lectures,” Raven said, holding up three fingers. “People fall into one of three categories: Physical, Mental, and Omnipotent. Then you can break each of those down. Physical peeps can be manips like the Doc, who can manipulate things, creators, who can create things from nothing, and abs, who can absorb things.”

Clark nodded like she understood what Raven was talking about. If Clarke really thought about it, nothing Raven was saying topped the existence of mutants. 

“Mental peeps can be asses, psychos, or pathetic.” Clark must have looked alarmed because Raven hurried with her explanation, “Kidding. Sorta. Mental peeps can be Astral, think out of body experiences; psychokinetic, moving stuff with their minds; or telepathic, mind readers.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“Ha… I guess not. But students are not allowed to use their powers against each other unless authorized by a professor,” Raven turned the corner before Clark, almost slamming into someone.

“Watch where you’re going creepy-nips,” A tall girl with blonde dyed hair growled as she passed by Raven, who, to her credit, didn’t lose what Clarke was slowly learning was her trademark grin. She was wearing high-waisted olive colored jeans and a loose white shirt under a faded denim jacket.

“You think being a psycho-path would mean you could anticipate things better,” Raven said, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Excuse me?” The testy blonde turned and walked back into Raven’s space. “What did you say, Reyes?”

“You know exactly what I said, Woods,” Raven said, getting in Anya’s face. “Unless you’re losing your touch. Didn’t know people could go backwards in their power development.” 

Anya growled, pushing close enough to Raven that their noses almost touched. Clarke felt something akin to awkward standing there waiting for something to occur between the two women she barely knew. 

“Anya, there you are,” A firm voice called from behind Clarke. Anya’s shoulders relaxed a little, but she didn’t move from her spot in front of Raven. A brunette with thick braided hair and green eyes holding a notebook sidled up to the group. She wore a sleeveless charcoal-colored sweater vest that reached halfway down her thighs, a tight dark burgundy long sleeve shirt underneath, and dark blue jeans leading to a perfectly laced black combat boots. “I wanted to go over the notes for the Advanced Physiology exam.” 

When Anya didn’t respond, the brunette looked up from her notes and noticed Anya wasn't alone, “Hello, Raven.” The brunette was polite even in the face of her friend about to fight someone. Clark had never seen someone so unaffected. Maybe Anya picking fights in the hallway was commonplace? Something for Clarke to look forward to in the future.

“Hey, Lexa. Can you call off your guard dog?” Raven joked and backed away from Anya. Lexa didn't laugh, making the air feel more tense than before.

“Anya, we’re going to be late.” 

Anya nodded but pretended to lunge at Raven for effect, only walking to Lexa’s side when Raven failed to flinch. Finally, green eyes found Clarke and scrutinized her for a moment. Clarke took in the stare. Lexa cut an intimidating figure with her ramrod stance and chiseled jawline. It didn’t help that Lexa looked fit, the muscles on her arms beautifully demarked by her shirt. Not that Clarke would be intimidated by a girl with a nice jaw and arms. Clarke had a nice set of arms that were currently covered up by her favorite grey and white long sleeve flannel. Lexa blinked as if done with an assessment of Clarke and said, “You’re new.” 

“Observant,” Raven mumbled under her breath.

“Someone has to be, Raven.” Lexa said, without taking her eyes off of Clarke, the hint of a smirk betraying her otherwise stoic demeanor. It was the first sign of life Clarke had seen from the brunette. So far, everyone she had met were amiable like Becca and Gustus or obnoxiously in your face like Raven and Anya. It appeared that Lexa fell into her own group, quietly composed, except when Clarke looked in her eyes. Something in those green-hazel eyes betrayed a fierceness Clarke wasn’t expecting from a girl in a sweater vest talking about notes. 

Lost in her musings, it took a second for Clarke to notice Lexa had extended her hand to Clarke, “I’m Lexa Woods. Fourth year, physical class combustion manipulator/creator.” The words rolled off her tongue as if she had just told Clarke where her hometown was instead of explaining her mutant abilities. Too bad Clarke had stopped listening the moment Lexa’s hand came into view. Clark stared at Lexa’s hand with fear, the memory of Finn’s pale face freezing her in place. A couple of awkward seconds passed before the bell rang. 

“Shit,” Anya hissed. 

Unfazed by the bell, Lexa waited for Clarke to shake her hand. Clarke looked from Lexa’s hand to her face and shook her head. 

“I can’t,” Clarke retreated away from Lexa until her back hit the lockers on the wall, giving her enough clarity to slip around the corner and run.

“Clarke!” Raven called after the blonde. “Great,” Raven sent a death glare towards Anya. “So much for the tour.”

“Sounds about right,” Anya chuckled. 

“Shut it, psycho-path,” Raven said, getting back into Anya’s face.

“Try me, creepy-nipples,” Anya said, pressing Raven back with her hand.

Ignoring the back and forth next to her, Lexa looked from the corner Clarke disappeared behind to her own retracted hand. She frowned for a second before turning her attention to Anya and Raven. 

“Come on, Anya. Professor Seda won’t be pleased,” Lexa said, walking back down the hallway she had come from. 

“You know Indra worships the ground you walk on, right?” Anya said, trying to buy more time to fight with Raven. 

Lexa didn’t turn around, “What does that mean for you if you enter the classroom after her prized pupil?” Anya huffed and started following Lexa, only turning around to draw her finger across her throat and point to Raven mouthing the words ‘next time’.

Raven rolled her eyes but quickly took off in a sprint after Clarke.

* * *

“Griffin!” Raven wheezed as she finally made it to the blonde’s side. Raven had found Clark sitting in a ball a few left turns away from where they had started. Clark’s head was buried under her hands, between her knees. 

“What were you, a cross country runner?” Raven said, folding over and putting her hands on her knees. ”You sure you’re not an adrenaline creator?” 

“Lacrosse,” Clarke mumbled out.

“What?” Raven said, looking at the blonde.

“I played lacrosse,” Clark said, lifting her head up from her knees. 

“Of course you did, Blondie,” Raven said, regaining her standing position. “What was that back there?” 

Clark shook her head. How do you go about telling a complete stranger you have PTSD from touching someone to death? 

When Clarke didn’t answer, Raven sighed and walked over to Clarke’s side, sliding down into a cross-legged position next to her. Clarke made sure to shuffle a few inches away. If Raven was offended, she didn’t show it. They sat in silence for a few minutes. After what felt like an eternity to Raven, Clarke’s voice broke through, “Creepy nipples?” Clarke raised an eyebrow at Raven, trying hard to avoid looking at Raven’s boobs. 

Raven laughed, “The mental kids have nicknames for us, too. Manipulators are nipples, creators are creeps, and absorbers are ab-holes.”

“So you’re a manipulator and a creator? I didn’t know you could be two things.” There were so many things Clarke was realizing she didn’t know and to be honest she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Then again, what choice did she have?

“A tech manip to be exact,” Raven said. “Which means I can control circuits, wires, electronic parts, and what have you. Some people would classify me as a tech psycho but I refuse to be put in the same boat as those mutants. Psycho kids think they're so much better than the physicals.”

“So you can create tech?” Clarke stared at Raven in awe.

“No, but you're looking at a truly rare creature,” Raven said, pointing to herself with her thumbs. “A mutant with creator powers that are completely unrelated to my manipulator powers. I’m a collagen creator.”

Clarke opened her mouth and then closed it without saying anything. She felt like she had heard that word before somewhere, like a commercial.

“I know, what does that mean, right?” Raven whipped out a Swiss army knife and before Clarke could register what was happening, Raven had dragged the little blade against the inside of her palm. The skin opened long enough for Clarke to see red, but never bled. Instead Raven’s skin filled in the gap until it looked like Raven had never cut herself in the first place. “I can heal myself. Which was handy when you had an alcoholic mother and too much time on your hands as a kid,” Raven chuckled awkwardly, but recovered quickly. “Can’t kill this bitch.” 

The fact that Raven might be indestructible or that she had witnessed two impossibilities in one day was not what bothered Clarke. What really bothered Clarke was how quick Raven had been to show off her powers. No shame, no fear, just...pride? Was everyone as flippant about their abilities as Raven, Becca and Lexa for that matter? 

Clark shook her head. This newfound information about Raven, which continued to make her head spin, left Clarke with questions.  _ Did Becca pair me up with Raven because I wouldn’t be able to kill her? Does Raven know I’m a liability? _ As curious as she was, asking Raven would reveal more than Clarke wanted to at that moment, so she changed the subject.

“And angry cheek bones?” The nickname earned Clarke a megawatt smile from Raven. 

“Never heard that one before. Mind if I steal it?”

Clark shrugged, “All yours.”

“Anya is our resident psycho-path. Top of the mental class, major bitch, and majorly hates me.”

Clarke didn’t ask why Anya hated Raven. She could see how Raven’s personality could rub someone the wrong way. There would be time to get to know Raven later, and Clarke found she didn’t mind the idea of becoming friends with the forward brunette. 

“So she can read minds and move things?”

“You’ll ace Kane’s class no problemo,” Raven said, clapping a hand on Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke internally winced at the touch but kept her cool. As long as there was a barrier, Becca said her powers wouldn’t manifest.

On top of that, Clarke was barely able to process Raven’s touch, considering the sheer amount of information she had just gained left Clarke stunned. Until a few weeks ago, any type of supernatural power seemed like the stuff of movies and comic books. Yet here she was, living out an episode of one of her favorite syfy shows. 

“And what about Lexa?” Clarke said, nonchalantly.

“What about her?” Raven said, giving Clarke a suspicious look. 

Clark glared at Raven until Raven raised her hands in surrender, “I kid. If you didn’t fall for my charms, you won’t fall for Lexa’s lack of them.”

“Lack of them?” Clarke said, giving Raven her full attention.

“She’s… different,” For once, Raven seemed to be struggling for words. “Most people come here because they woke up one day blowing up stuff.”

Clark frowned.

“Okay, maybe that was just me,” Raven chuckled. “But, I mean that a lot of us come from ‘normal’ homes with ‘normal’ families.” Raven supplied air quotes each time she said the word ‘normal’.

“Lexa, Anya and some others here are...” Raven sighed, letting the back of her head rest against the wall. “It’s not my story to tell.”

Clark was intrigued. She hadn’t been digging for more than a description of Lexa’s powers, and she didn’t think she’d heard Raven voluntarily shut up since they’d met. But Clarke knew a thing or two about keeping secrets, and the brunette earned some respect from Clarke at that moment. 

“Okay, but what kind of mutant is she? She said she was physical and then I... spaced out.”  _ Lexa must think I’m such a jerk for refusing to shake her hand like that. Clarke A. Griffin, already living up to the ab-hole name. _ It wasn’t Lexa’s fault Clarke was volatile. 

“She’s a pyro-manip-creator, but she uses the term combustion,” Raven extended her fingers out in front of her, mimicking an explosion. “Poof.”

Clarke quirked her eyebrows, “She makes… fire?” Maybe Clarke wasn’t the only volatile mutant around. 

Raven nodded, “Descended from Prometheus himself.” Raven looked both ways down the hall before whispering to Clarke, “Some people think she’s an omni.”

“Omni?” Clarke decided the nicknames were getting old.

“Potent. Omnipotent,” Raven said, all humor gone. “Kinda like a third class of mutant: the most dangerous and powerful. Omnis can do it all: create, manip and absorb if Physical or astral, psychokinetic, and telepathic if Mental. A real triple threat, emphasis on threat,” Raven exhaled loudly as if even talking about omnipotent mutants exhausted her. “Some people swear they’ve seen her absorb fire.” 

“She’d make a good firefighter,” Clarke said, trying to bring some levity back to the conversation. Serious Raven was a little offputting. 

“The last registered omni we had, way before my time of course, almost caused a tornado to tear down the school. Omnis are trouble. Unpredictable. Uncontrollable.” 

During her description, Raven had gotten closer to Clarke’s face than Clarke was comfortable. She put some space between them and said, “Okay, okay. I get it. I’ll stay out of her way.”  _ If Raven has never met the registered omni, why is she so wary?  _

Raven shrugged, pulling back, “It’s a rumor. Anyway, she has a stick so far up her butt it wouldn’t matter if she had omni powers. She probably wouldn’t use them.”

Now it was Clark’s turn to let her head rest against the wall.  _ I can barely handle my own weird power _ . Becca said it would take time, but Clarke would be able to touch people again. She couldn’t believe her. It was too much hope to have right now. But imagining having to learn to handle three destructive powers at once, Clarke could understand why Lexa seemed so constrained in their brief encounter.  _ Control would mean everything. _ Control was something Clarke craved more than anything. Control meant she could be normal and go home. 

“Come on,” Raven said, deciding sharing time was done. She pushed herself off the ground and waved Clarke over, “I have to finish the tour.” 

Clarke nodded. Maybe staring at different wall art would help her digest everything happening to her. Every hallway’s oil paintings seemed to have a theme, this one was landscapes. As they started to walk down the hall, Clarke couldn’t help but ask, “So, you just assumed I liked girls?”

Raven didn’t skip a beat, “You  _ are _ wearing flannel.”

“It keeps me warm,” Clark said, wrapping her arms around herself. “And it was my dad’s.” 

Raven shrugged and started walking down the hallway, Clarke in tow. Clarke was grateful Raven hadn’t asked for details on her father. Today was bad enough without delving into non-mutant subjects of her life that caused her pain. 

More silence passed between them, and Raven looked ready to apologize when Clarke blurted out, “You were half right. I’m bi.” Finally, one thing she could share without bad memories.

Raven fist pumped the air, “Called it! We are going to have so much fun this year, Griffin!”

Clarke just shook her head.  _ What have I gotten myself into? _


	2. Fun at Franko's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke has a little fun at Franko's and runs into you know who.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I posted another chapter because I wanted to. Let's see what Clarke gets up to now.
> 
> Any typos are my own, but point them out if you feel inclined, and I'll try to fix them.

The first few weeks at Franko’s passed by in a blur. She’d met most of Raven’s friends, a group of 17 to 19 year old mutants that called themselves the Delinquents. So far, they were living up to their nickname. 

Octavia Blake, 17, was a spunky brunette and an iron/carbon creator-manipulator, which meant she scared the day-lights out of Clarke the first time she grew 14-inch blades from her forearms. She also couldn’t keep her power use a secret for the life of her, a tell-tale trail of blood spots always followed Octavia’s use of her blades. Blodreina was her mutant nickname, but she would punch anyone who tried to use it. She was a bio-hazard and just a hazard in general. 

Lincoln Woods, 18, dating Octavia and related to Anya and Lexa by some unexplained link, was an odd physical/mental combo: an adrenaline creator and involuntary astral projector. Also known the Grounder. Clarke still didn’t understand exactly what Lincoln could do, other than look like a bald model from a magazine, but he was nice to her so that was something.

Bellamy Blake, 19, Octavia’s lanky and over confident brother, who told everyone to call him Gatling━Clarke had rolled her eyes at the self-assigned nickname━was a lead creator-manip capable of shooting bullet shaped objects from his fingertips. He could also be obnoxiously cocky in a group setting. 

Emori River, 18, was simply labeled a shape-shifter. Currently, she was running around as a tan dark haired girl with a face tattoo. Apparently, Becca couldn’t come up with one or two elements to neatly describe Emori’s ability to change the size, shape and appearance of most of her body, except her hand. Due to a birth defect, Emori’s right hand couldn’t change and was misshapen and always hidden in a mitten. 

John Murphy, 19, a greasy haired boy with permanent stink-face, and somehow Emori’s boyfriend, had the creepiest power of all, entomo manipulation. It was a fancy way of saying he could control insects. Which made the name Cockroach fitting. Any time a bug would fly or skitter by, the group would immediately start giving Murphy a hard time, telling him to control his people.

Clarke also met her ‘cohort’ as Professor Marcus Kane had called them: mutants relatively new to the school like Clarke. 

Niylah Harmon, 21, was an empath, able to gage and shape others' emotions. She was a little late to the game because after her powers had activated they were subtle, even to herself. A couple times, she had caught Niylah calming her down when a memory of Finn sneaked its way to her subconscious during class. Each time, Clarke had asked her politely to stop, but Niylah would sheepishly shrug and say she couldn’t help it.

Clarke had learned Jasper Jordan, 18, was a fermentation manipulator the hard way, having accepted a drink from him at a ‘new school year’ party Raven had hosted. Clarke wanted to label him an unofficial absorber as well because the amount of alcohol the boy consumed could only be superhuman. 

Maya Vie, 19, was a radio wave creator-absorber but wasn’t keen on using her powers in front of anyone, except maybe Jasper. She mostly kept to herself, but every once and a while she and Clarke would bond over art history. 

Echo Ashland, 20, was a telepath specializing in refractory hypnosis. She could make you see anything she wanted you to see. Clarke wanted to trust Echo, but the fact that Echo could completely override Clarke’s senses left the blonde uneasy in the taller girl’s presence. 

Out of all the powers she’d seen displayed so far, she liked Monty Green's best. Monty, 19, was a cellulose creator-manipulator. He could grow flowers, trees, literally any type of flora if he’d seen it. There was something beautiful about watching Monty bring things to life that made her rethink her stance that all powers were a curse.

Speaking of powers, Clarke had avoided using hers like the plague. Becca had given her a couple pairs of latex gloves to wear and advised her against any physical contact, which Clarke found incredibly easy instructions to follow. Becca had recommended, and Clarke agreed, that until Clarke knew how to control her powers, touching anyone, accidentally or not, was off limits. 

In addition to Becca’s medical gloves, Clarke collected multiple gloves to match the weather or her outfit. Her favorite pair were dark black-blue leather riding gloves that ended immediately at her wrist. She had also picked up multiple long sleeves and jackets, happy that fall was in full swing.

* * *

“Come on, Echo!” Bellamy hooted. “Think you can make this lame place into a rave?” 

Echo rolled her eyes even as a smile found its way onto her normally stern face as it always seemed to do around Bellamy, “Raves are for amateurs.” 

Clarke watched Echo smugly wave her hand in front of everyone in the recreation room. Next thing she knew, the ceiling was gone, replaced with brilliant green and yellow streaks moving across a dark open sky. 

“Is that the aurora borealis?” Clarke whispered to herself as she stared up at the sky in awe. She’d only seen the borealis on tv and books. The colors shifted from green and yellow to red and orange and back. It almost made Clarke forget everything that had gone wrong in her life, for a moment that is. When she looked around to share her excitement, she found everyone had moved on to mixing drinks or talking to their respective cliques. _Guess indoor marvels are commonplace here_. 

Raven and Maya were working on a makeshift speaker made out of a traffic cone, multiple red solo cups, and a blender from the kitchen. Jasper poured drinks for Monty, Niylah, and Harper McIntyre. 

Harper wasn’t part of the Delinquents, but she hung around Monty enough to be an unofficial member. According to Harper, her power wasn’t exciting. She called herself a sand-person, politically correct and all, because she was a somnolence manipulator: she could make people sleep. The trick was remembering how to wake them up. She always joked. 

Bellamy was glaring at Lincoln as he shared a joke with Octavia. Emori and Murphy were making out in the corner. Clarke quickly turned away before she gagged and was immediately caught by green eyes. 

Clarke had never spotted any of the Woods clan, except for Lincoln, at these parties. Raven said it was because Lexa didn’t let them go to the party, but Lincoln had slipped that they usually practiced their powers every night. What they were practicing for, Lincoln had refused to say. 

Lexa stood near the entrance of the recreation room flanked by Anya and Tris Woods, a younger girl with dirty blonde hair and a physical ability Clarke couldn’t recall. The group seemed to be having an intense but muted conversation, but Clarke could have sworn Lexa had been looking at her. Lexa nodded and gestured enough to create the appearance of paying attention for Anya and Tris’ sake, but, after a few seconds, her eyes locked with Clarke’s again. 

The light of the aurora changed from green and yellow to red and orange casting warm highlights and shadows over Lexa’s features that Clarke had never noticed before. Lexa looked younger, like she could very well be a normal teenage girl at a party and not a fire producing mutant. 

Clarke resisted the urge to look away. Lexa’s eyes never wavered. It had been some time since Clarke’s humiliating introduction. Clarke had only seen Lexa in the hallways or when she was pulling Raven away from Anya during their weekly hallway shouting matches. 

If Clarke looked away now, it was like she was admitting some unspoken weakness. Everyone at the school knew Clarke was an energy absorber with no control. No one wanted to test her abilities and no one dared stare at her for very long. Clarke found she was happy with the space the other students gave her. Maybe Lexa’s gaze sprang from some bold curiosity or pity. It wouldn’t be the first time other students had looked at her like that, but they always turned away first.

Before she could analyze their staring contest further, Raven’s laugh broke through her concentration, making her turn to the noise. Clarke quickly turned back to Lexa, but she was back in her engrossing conversation like that moment between them had never happened.

“Boom, baby!” Clarke turned to catch her roommate connecting the final wires of her makeshift speaker.

Two things happened simultaneously, the aurora blinked out of existence for a second going from dark to artificial light to dark again with enough speed to warrant a strobe light warning, and a party beat bursted from the speakers, eliciting a cheer from the crowd. Clarke blinked away the brief visual dissonance. It took a moment, but she was able to locate Echo who was messaging her temples in a corner by herself. Clarke began walking towards Echo to check on her, when she heard her own name called loudly behind her. 

Clarke turned, finding Raven waving her over. Before joining her roommate, Clarke looked back at Echo to find the taller girl engrossed in a conversation with Bellamy and an upperclassman named Zoe Monroe. If her head was still bothering her, Echo wasn’t showing it.

Deciding Echo was fine, Clarke walked over to Raven, cupping her hands around her mouth to speak over the music, “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“The lights?”

Raven shrugged, “Power interference from Maya? Maybe Echo got distracted?” 

A slight frown played on Clarke’s face. 

“Don’t be such a worry-wart, Clarkey. Echo is fine,” Raven said as she and Maya pushed the makeshift speaker into a corner of the room. “I swear, you’re as nosy as Professor Seda is.”

“Not nosy, just concerned,” Clarke said, resisting the urge to flick Raven’s nose. Even if she had no plans to enter the medical field, Clarke had inherited the annoying instinct to care for people. All Raven seemed to have inherited was the even more irritating instinct to tease Clarke.

“Same difference,” Raven said, eyes on the speaker, clearly proud of her work.

“Speaking of professors, aren't they going to hear us?”

“I already told you, Griffin,” Raven shook her head. “Maya ‘soundproofed’ the room.” Raven clapped Maya on the back. Maya nodded timidly. 

“Like she did the last time?” Clarke crossed her arms. “Remember the Sweater-Weather party?” Where Bellamy had created a hole in the wall in his attempt to beat Lincoln in a sweater sack race. You know, a race where you use an oversized sweater tied at the arms in lieu of a potato sack. Raven assured her that it was a thing. Well that thing resulted in a hole in the wall punched through Maya’s sound proofing and alerting Gustus. They had all managed to escape back to their rooms, but it had been close. They couldn’t throw another party for weeks until the hole was repaired. 

It’s not that Clarke was some goody-two shoes or something. She just didn’t want to be kicked out of the one and only place that took her in after her powers activated. Her prior personality felt subsumed by her new one, the timid, confused girl standing awkwardly at this party and scolding her roommate. Her old friends wouldn’t recognize her if they could see her now. 

“It wasn’t her fault and you know it. Anyways, we accounted for that. Right, Maya?” Raven winked at Maya, who blushed, and Clarke rolled her eyes. _Raven would flirt with a cactus if she thought it was sentient._ _Strike that, Raven would flirt with a cactus. Period._ “We’re all set, so don’t worry so much,Griffin. You’re going to get wrinkles. Jasper!” Raven waved over Clarke’s cohort mate. “Can you help loosen up my friend here?”

“Drink?” Jasper ambled over, offering Clarke a red cup with bubbling brown liquid that in any other place and time would be rum and coke. 

“Did you make it?” Clarke eyed it warily. 

“No?” Jasper said, smiling too much for his own good. Monty came up behind Jasper, offering Clarke a different red cup with dark pink liquid. 

“It's a spiked punch,” Monty winked. A safe non-sarcastic wink. “A nomu-brew.” Nomu, Clarke had quickly learned, was the word the mutant students used to describe anyone or anything non-mutant.

“Thank you,” Clarke took the cup willingly. A fruity artificial smell reached Clarke and it wasn’t unpleasant, so she took a sip. Sure enough, the tang of vodka, rum, and sticky sweet punch rushed down her throat with a satisfying—and thankfully normal—burn. 

After two cups of punch and one or more shots of tequila with Octavia, Clarke had lost count at 4, the alcohol had its intended effect. Brazenly, and maybe a little too quickly, Clarke turned back to try and find Lexa and her group, but they were gone. Clarke slumped her shoulders. 

She scanned the room for Lexa finding Echo, Bellamy and Monroe deep into a pool game. Emori and John were missing. Lincoln and Octavia were starting a beer pong game with Jasper and Maya with Niylah watching. Monty and Harper were sharing a blunt, giggling at some shared joke. A memory of Finn smoking his first cigarette flashed across her mind. She shook her head at the thought and a new one took its place. _Does Lexa smoke? She’s a fire creator, right?_

“Missing someone?” Clarke jumped as Raven’s warm breath blew by her ear, too close for comfort.

“No,” Clarke said, taking a step away.

“Oh. Shame,” Raven said, shoving her hands into the pocket of her orange and dark green camo jacket. “I thought you were looking for the Commander and her posse. I was going to tell you where they went.”

Clarke froze. _Am I that easy to read?_ From the get-go Clarke had been fascinated with everyone she met at Franko’s, but Lexa had managed to keep her attention longer than the others. There was something about the way the brunette carried herself, so unlike the other teenagers and young adults, like she had something to prove. No, more like she had something to hide. Clarke knew that feeling. 

“You need to stop calling her that,” Clarke said, crossing her arms. Not all mutants liked being addressed by their unofficial nicknames. Clarke being one of them. 

“And  _ you _ need to make a move if you’re interested,” Raven shrugged, finding the nearest red cup and taking a swig. Clarke doubted that was Raven’s cup. If Raven got mono, Clarke would never hear the end of it. “They left like 10 minutes ago.” 

“Even if I was interested, which I’m not,” Clarke felt her cheeks burn and blamed the alcohol. “It wouldn’t matter.” She raised her gloved hands for effect. Today, she was sporting dark brown shortie gloves that ended above her pulse point. They revealed just an inch of her wrist and, as Maya had commented earlier that night, was very risque for Clarke.

“Oh, Bubble Girl,” Raven sighed. Clarke glared at Raven, but didn’t comment. As far as nicknames went, Bubble Girl was better than Princess. It had taken two weeks to convince Raven that Clarke’s powers didn’t make her some untouchable locked away princess in a tower. There was no rhyme or reason for what names stuck and which didn’t at Franko’s, but Clarke’s campaign against Bubble Girl would have to wait.

Raven smirked at Clarke, “Love finds a way. I mean, look at Emori and the Cockroach.” Raven cocked her head in the direction of a lumpy blue couch in the corner, that Clarke hadn’t noticed, currently inhabited by two teenagers who desperately needed to get a room. Raven retched, pretended to vomit. “Actually, don’t look.” 

“Too late,” Clarke groaned. Raven raised her hand to hover in front of Clarke’s eyes, “Look away my child before it’s burned into your retinas!” 

“You’re like two months older,” Clarke laughed, batting Raven away with one gloved hand. The other held tightly to her almost empty fourth cup of punch.

“Clarke!” Niylah’s voice carried over the music causing Clarke to cringe. The older blonde was always trying to care for Clarke in her own Niylah-way, and if it wasn’t for the looks Clarke would catch in class from the corner of her eye, she would have called it sisterly or motherly. She just hoped Niylah hadn’t caught scent of her short alcohol supplemented emotional roller coaster and was coming over to try to fix it. 

“Niylah, hey,” Clarke took a sip and nearly emptied her cup. For once, she wished for Jasper’s ability. 

Niylah gave Clarke an easy smile, her cheeks were tinged pink from the alcohol, nothing to make Clarke suspect that Niylah had been spying on her emotions. “Did you get a chance to look at that book I lent you?”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks again,” Clarke breathed a sigh of relief. School work she could handle. Niylah’s understanding smiles and looks, not so much. Nothing was wrong with Niylah per se, she was cute, a little older, and very sweet, but Clarke couldn’t reciprocate, at least not anytime soon. “It’ll be helpful for the Mutant History report next week.”

“Anytime,” Niylah gave Clarke’s arm a squeeze. Resisting the urge to flinch, Clarke forced a smile and moved her arm closer to her side when Niylah let go. _It’s okay._ She had to keep reminding herself that there was a barrier and she couldn’t hurt Niylah. Tonight that barrier consisted of a light brown bomber jacket over her favorite band shirt, 21 Pilots.

Despite the loud music, an awkward silence fell between them. Clarke pretended to sip from her now empty cup, Raven rocked on her heels, and Niylah never lost her smile. Right when the silence got too much for Clarke to bear, the music cut out, and she all but thanked Raven for twitching her fingers right before. Boos erupted from the group around them. 

“Would you look at that? Duty calls,” Raven sped away with an alacrity Clarke had never seen from her. She made a note to put BBQ sauce in Raven’s shampoo when she got back to their room as revenge for leaving her alone.

“It’s okay, Clarke.” The tone Niylah used bordered on clinical.

“Huh?” 

Niylah looked at Clarke as if she already knew the answer. When Clarke didn’t answer, she said, “I know you’re not ready for anything right now.”

If Clarke had anything in her mouth, she would have spit it out. Niylah was blunt. _Guess being an empath lets you cut straight to the point._ It was still annoying that Niylah couldn’t always control her own powers. _Annoying but not dangerous_. 

_How am I she supposed to respond to that?_ After a second, Clarke settled for, “Okay.” 

“I just want to make sure you know you have a friend. Also...” Niylah looked away for a moment, before finding Clarke’s eyes. She was still smiling but her cognac brown eyes lost some of their luster. “If you have questions, you should ask Lexa.”

Clarke blinked, “What?” _I really needed to learn how to speak in more than one syllable. What does Lexa have to do with anything? First Raven and now Niylah?_

“In case you need more books...for your report,” Niylah’s eyes lost their sadness, or maybe it was a trick of the aurora making Clarke hope she saw the change. “She lent me the one I lent you.” 

“Oh, cool.” _There you go, Clarke_. _Two syllables. Sort of_. The grip on her cup suddenly felt inadequate, so Clarke tightened her fingers around it causing it to squeak from the pressure of leather on plastic. Clarke might as well have turned her powers on herself if she could in that moment. _Where was Raven’s music when she needed it?_

As if reading Clarke’s embarrassment, Niylah gave Clarke an out. “I’ll see you in class.” She turned and started walking back towards the makeshift bar Jasper was running.

“Niylah,” Clarke raised her hand to stop the dirty-blonde from walking too far away and immediately withdrew it. Old habits, like communicating by touch, died hard. The blonde turned around. Clarke cleared her throat, “Thanks again. If you ever need anything, let me know. I mean it.”

Niylah nodded, another patient smile gracing her face, “I know.” She turned and walked away without another glance.

“Dang, Griffin,” Raven whistled. “Zero for two.” 

Clarke jumped as her roommate's voice crept up behind her. She turned to glare at the brunette. Her mind quickly worked out a couple of additional revenge scenarios involving pepper before shaking the glare off her face. Clarke finally noticed the music was back on but at a more reasonable volume. 

“You’re one to talk,” Clarke said, pretending to count her fingers but stopped when she noticed six on one hand. She didn’t have six before drinking. “It looks to me like you’re zero for zero.”

“No one here is my type,” Raven crossed her arms and glanced away. It did not go unnoticed by Clarke that Raven had looked towards the door. Clarke filed that nugget away for later blackmail use. Clarke could play the long game, when time allowed that is, but her impulsive nature usually got the best of her. Like now. 

“What? Broody and unavailable?” Clarke teased, hoping Raven had understood the reference to Anya. In the last few weeks, any interaction between Raven and Anya had ended the same way, with Clarke and Lexa pulling away their respective roommates. Raven complained about the bleached blonde like it was her job. 

Raven squinted at Clarke before breaking into a smile, “Griffin, we really need to work on your self esteem. That’s no way to talk about yourself.” 

Raven made a movement to wrap her arm around Clarke’s shoulder but stopped. Raven knew Clarke didn’t like to be touched and tried her best to respect her wishes. She had never asked why Clarke was so anti-touch and Clarke had never asked if she knew. It was a risk to ask Raven if Becca had warned her. _If Raven doesn’t know and found out, would she look at me differently? Would she ask to move_? At that moment, the alcohol in Clarke’s gut made a u-turn up to her throat but she quickly swallowed it back down.

Putting on her best I’m-fine-face Clarke said, “I’m going to call it a night,” and prayed Raven wouldn’t try to guilt her into watching her and Bellamy have a shooting match where Raven used a jerry-rigged BB gun she’d made from a potato, rubber bands, a stapler and some dried beans. 

“You sure?” Raven studied Clarke’s face. “The party’s just getting started and I rigged Mr. Potato-gun with a battery for extra oomph.” _Joy._

“Yep,” Clarke nodded a bit too enthusiastically, a movement she immediately regretted. Her head felt like a sandbag and all she wanted to do was lay it on the ground. 

“You need someone to walk you to the room?” Clarke sighed in relief. Usually, Raven put up more of a fight when Clarke wanted to bail on a party. Raven glanced around, “Niylah should be around here somewhere.” There it was. Raven couldn’t help herself. 

Clarke somehow managed to roll her eyes without losing her balance, “Stop trying to hook me up with people.” 

“But I love the idea of Niylarke!” Raven cackled. 

“Goodnight, Raven,” Clarke’s tone left no room for discussion. Setting her cup down, Clarke began her short journey back to their shared room. The last thing she heard was Raven cursing about sinking ships, whatever that meant.

She made it as far as the corner of her hallway, when the creak of a floorboard up ahead gave her pause. As far as she knew, she was the only one to have left the party. She pressed herself against the wall for balance. Out running Gustus, or worse, Indra, would be impossible in her current state. Taking a deep breath, and bracing herself for the worst, she peeked around the corner. 

A couple of still life flower oil paintings on the walls, an abandoned red candy wrapper on the floor, and an empty hallway greeted Clarke. A sigh escaped her. She was probably hearing things. The school was an old building. 

She didn’t bother to pick up the wrapper as she stumbled the rest of the way into her door and into her room, letting herself fall face first onto her bed. She groaned into her pillow until she’d expelled all the air in her lungs. 

After a few seconds, unable to hold her breath any longer, she turned her head quickly to the side and inhaled fresh air with a gasp. Her head pounded. _When did I become such a lightweight?_ She peeled off the gloves and shoved them into the drawer of her nightstand.The unintended force rattled the items sitting atop it, but nothing fell. 

She surveyed the rest of her night stand, the words on the spine of a book on the stand catching her eye. **_Egyptian Mythology: A Guide to Gods, Goddesses and Traditions of Ancient Egypt_ **

Immediately, her mind jumped back to her conversation with Niylah and inevitably Lexa’s face swam into view. Clarke groaned. _What even am I thinking?_ _Maybe if I keep cutting off the flow of air to my brain, it’ll work better._ “Stupid brain. Go to bed.” Clarke grabbed her pillow and sluggishly pulled it over her head falling asleep almost instantly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. Another piece of the puzzle? Trying to set the groundwork for the rest. Of course we needed mutant nicknames! Any thoughts for Jasper, Monty, Maya, Niylah and Echo's names? Hope you liked it. Thanks for reading. Hit me up at mehworld on tumblr.


	3. Making friends is hard to do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitting in is hard to do when everyone's a little... let's say... touchy. But Clarke is well on her way to making friends and enemies alike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been blown away by the reception to the first two chapters. I never write for this fandom, never inspired before now. Additionally, I love the x-men, and I love that other people love it, too! Thank you for reading and commenting. I read every one with glee and stare at my phone like a silly school girl. 
> 
> I made some small changes to chapter 2 that I don't think change it too much, but feel free to reread it before this one in case you're interested. 
> 
> SO I am super excited to drop this chapter, because this is where things really start to pick up! Hope you enjoy.

“So what was it with that group?” Jasper asked, tilting his head towards the group of students Lexa sat with everyday at lunch. “I’ve never seen any of them at a party before the other night.” Lexa was with Lincoln, Anya, Tris, and an upperclassman named Tristan that Clarke had never met. 

“Woods kids,” Raven said, taking a bite out of her BLT without further elaboration.

Murphy offered Emori his extra ketchup packet, and said, “Rumor has it that one day they all came out of the forest at the same time and asked Becca to stay here.” 

“That’s why they’re all named Woods,” Emori said, squeezing a dollop of ketchup out and dipping a curly fry in it. 

“So they’re not related?” Monty asked. 

Emori shrugged, “Do they look related?”

Monty, Jasper, Maya and Clarke took a moment to observe the group. Other than being an extremely attractive group of young adults and teenagers, nothing else would scream blood relative. “Not really,” Monty said, finishing his review. 

“They’re just a couple of stuck-up mutes,” Bellamy said with a sneer.

“Come off it, Bell,” Octavia said, almost pushing her brother off his seat. 

“What, O?” Bellamy said, pushing her back. “Defending your lab-made boyfriend?”

“He isn’t lab-made! Lincoln just doesn’t like to talk about it,” Octavia sighed, debating whether to continue. After a short glaring contest with Bellamy, she continued, “He and the other Woods kids…were being used for experiments or something before coming here. They escaped. Most of them don’t have families or a home to return to. They are no different from us.” That shut Bellamy up for a moment.

“This is their home?” Clarke said, taking a brief glance at Lexa who was chatting amicably with Lincoln and Tris. She wondered if she’d ever understand her. Instead of getting clearer, with every piece of the puzzle Clarke got, the picture of Lexa got blurrier. 

“Yeah. They have everything here. Shelter, food, family, therapy. Why would they ever leave?” Raven said before stuffing a handful of french fries in her mouth. 

“Therapy?” Clarke said, stealing some fries from Raven’s plate and deftly avoiding a smack from Raven. It was worth getting grease on her gloves to take a fry or two. 

“Like group therapy?” Maya asked.

Octavia shrugged, “Lincoln goes once a month, but lately it's been like once a week.” She took a sip of her soda, clearly done with the topic. 

Clarke hummed an acknowledgment. 

“Imagine if Indra was their therapist,” Jasper said. “She would have them throwing knives at their emotions.” Jasper pantomimed throwing knives at Monty who shook his head in return.

“Not a bad idea,” Octavia said.

“No, no no. Do not get her started,” Bellamy said, unsuccessfully covering his sister’s ears.

“I’m not five, Bell,” Octavia huffed as she pushed Bellamy off. “I can stab my feelings if I want to.”

“Just make sure your feelings aren’t people. Okay?”

“Why? Are you trying to avoid being stabbed?”

“If your aim ever improves, I’ll worry.”

“Whatever, Bell,” Octavia said, throwing a ketchup packet at her brother’s head. It landed smack in the middle of his forehead with a satisfying “thwack” sound. 

“I think it's time you worried, Bellamy,” Clarke said, chuckling. 

Inspired by Octavia, the group started throwing various condiments at Bellamy, giving Clarke a chance to glance towards the Woods’ table. Lexa was packing up her book bag and leaving with Anya.

If Clarke hadn’t heard Octavia, she would never have believed Lexa had ever been anything but orderly and in control of herself. _A lab experiment...who would want to do that to her? To any of them?_ Clarke shivered at the thought. 

The mutant world was both bigger and scarier than Clarke wanted to know. _And yet…_ Clarke let herself watch Lexa until she reached the double doors of the cafeteria. It was then that Lexa had turned around to say something to Anya and caught Clarke staring. Clarke immediately looked down at her plate, finding her sad caesar salad super interesting. She could feel the sides of her face heating up. _Why does this keep happening?_

“Hey. Earth to Clarke,” Raven said, waving her hand in front of Clarke’s face. “You gonna eat that?” Raven pointed to a crouton. 

“All yours, roomie,” Clarke said, pushing the salad towards Raven who happily popped the crouton into her mouth with a loud crunch. Clarke dared a quick look to the double doors but found them empty. With a sigh, Clarke returned to the lunch conversation, trying to let her thoughts about Lexa fade.

Emori had promised to do some online glove shopping with her later that day. It usually turned into regular shopping. Thank goodness for the small allowance Franko's gave them. But she had to get her report done first, it was due at 11:59 pm. 

Finishing her report meant she no longer needed Niylah’s book. Maybe she could return the book and talk to her? It did make her feel better sometimes.

Without thinking, Clarke asked if anyone had seen Niylah lately. The ensuing silence let her know that was a mistake. Jasper started wiggling his eyebrows at Clarke. Octavia shared a knowing smile with Raven, and Emori said, “Oooh. Someone’s a cougar chaser.” The boys, except Monty, started making weird hooting and growling noises. 

“Shut it. All of you. I just need to return her book.”

“Right,” Raven said with air quotes, “ _return her book_.” She gave Clarke an exaggerated wink. 

“Come on Monty, pay up,” Jasper said, extending his hand across the table to Monty. 

“You were taking bets?” Clarke shook her head. “Et tu, Monty??”

“It’s not over yet,” Monty said, challenging Jasper. “There’s no proof.”

“Is my life a joke to you people?” Clarke said, pounding her fists on the table for dramatic effect.

“Not a joke, Griffin. Just a fun melodrama,” Raven crunched on another of Clarke’s croutons before Clarke made a show of pulling her salad out of reach. Monty and Jasper continued to debate if this counted as Clarke choosing Niylah over Lexa. Clarke glared murderously at Raven, who was likely behind the entire scheme. She was about to stuff a crouton in Raven’s ear when Maya interjected, “She’s out for the week at a funeral.”

“Oh,” Clarke dropped the crouton before it could make it to Raven’s head. “Thanks, Maya. At least someone here is on my side.” 

“Clarke. You wound me,” Raven clutched her chest dramatically. “Of course we’re on your side. You think fake friends would care this much about you getting laid.”

“Raven. You know I can’t…” 

Clarke was interrupted by Raven’s tut-ting. “Just return the book to its rightful owner and see what happens.” Everyone knew who the book's owner was, Lexa.

“No ones asking you to marry her, Clarke,” Octavia’s voice said otherwise. Of course Octavia wanted Clarke in a relationship with a Woods kid, it meant she’d have someone to vent to about how weird they were.

“You all are the worst,” Clarke groused, but internally thought it wasn’t the worst excuse to talk to Lexa. _But not because I like her or anything._

“You mean best of the worst,” Bellamy said, finally having dug out of the condiment pile. 

“Whatever,” Clarke sulked until an idea hit her. “Speaking of romance…” This caught everyone’s attention. “What’s up with you and Echo?”

Bellamy’s face turned beet red from his brown boyish curls to his barely there stubble. “Nothing.”

“You weren’t saying that the other night at the party,” Jasper snorted.

And with that, the conversation narrowed in on Bellamy’s love life instead of Clarke’s non-existent one. Breathing a sigh of relief, Clarke sat back in her seat to watch the havoc unfold. _It's not a bad idea at all to return the book. Totally platonic. Totes._

* * *

After sleeping less than two hours the night before, due to her procrastination on the report and thinking too much about returning the book, Clarke made the hard choice find Lexa and return the book. She decided to bring the book in her school assigned charcoal grey messenger bag with the schools’ infinity logo stitched in light blue on the front. A gift from the school. She hadn’t taken the time to pack more than her clothes when she left home. At first she felt guilty about receiving clothes, the bag and an allowance, but later learned that everyone had been given stuff to survive school. She wasn’t the only student who had dropped everything after learning about Franko’s.

Clarke traced the logo contemplating her choice. She wasn’t sure why she was trying to hide the fact she was returning Lexa’s book. It’s not like anyone would recognize a book, right? Except her asshole friends.

Though, Raven had helped Clarke by showing her where Lexa’s room was on a school map. Clarke was too antsy to tease Raven about knowing exactly how to get to Lexa and Anya’s _shared room_ . With a quick review of the map and advice on finding what Raven dubbed the pretty-brush stroke paintings hallway leading there, Clarke was on her way. One day Clarke would teach Raven about impressionist art, but until then, pretty-brush strokes it was. 

She’d just passed a hallway full of tiny bronze sculptures when someone appeared in her way.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” Anya said, blocking Clarke’s path. 

“Try what?” Getting along with people had been one of Clarke’s gifts, before her powers that is. She’d always known what to say, but with Anya, just existing seemed to irk the woman. _What have I even done now?_

“Giving Lexa false hope,” Anya sneered. 

“What are you talking about?” Clarke tried to walk around Anya but the taller girl stepped in front of her. 

“I can give her the book back,” Anya held out her hand.

“Wha...how did you know about the book?” Clarke clutched her messenger bag a little closer. 

Anya gave Clarke a smug look. 

A scoff escaped Clarke, “You read my mind? That’s an invasion of my privacy and against the rules!” 

“Trust me there wasn’t much to read that I couldn’t guess by the way you’ve been mooning over Lexa.”

Clarke felt her face flush. _Have I been ‘mooning over’ Lexa?_ Clarke hadn’t even begun to grasp her feelings, and now, Anya was throwing them in her face.

“I’m not going to report you because I’m not a narc, but…” Clarke moved her messenger bag behind her back, balling her hands into fists, “you should think carefully about messing with me.” 

The empty threat seemed to spark something In Anya and not for the better. 

“You know…” A contemptuous grin crawled across Anya’s face. “When you all got here, I first thought it was Maya, but all she was sneaking off to do was make out with that fermentation kid.” Anya took a step forward. 

Clarke took a matching step back. “What are you talking about?” 

“Then I moved on to Echo. There’s no way a new mutant could have that much power control. But she seemed to check out after a while, a prodigy of sorts.”

Anya took another step towards Clarke. “And then there was you. Helpless, stubborn, broken you. Lexa loves a project.”

Clarke held her position. “What is wrong with you?”

“Admit it. She sent you. There’s no way a mutant with your power happened to fall out of the sky right when we needed it.”

“What are you on?” Clarke said, marshaling all her courage to take a small step forward and look straight up into Anya’s eyes. “No wonder Raven thinks you’re a bitch.” Clarke wanted to regret her words, but there was something so satisfying about finally saying it.

Anya faltered for a moment. Her sneer was less accusatory and more of a sad question, but the change didn’t last long. “Don’t play dumb. How’d she do it?” Anya jabbed Clarke hard in the chest with her finger before Clarke could back away. Luckily for both of them, Clarke was not wearing a low cut shirt that day. “How’d she wipe your memory?” 

“Enough,” Clarke barked, pushing away Anya’s hand and rubbing her sternum. “What the fuck? I’m not sent by anyone! I don’t know what you’re talking about, and if you don’t back off…” Clarke raised her gloved hands toward Anya. Not close enough to touch her, but close enough to send a message. “We’re going to have problems.”

Anya’s laughter filled the hallway. “Look who thinks they can hang with the adult mutants now,” Anya challenged, getting in Clarke’s face and making Clarke retract her hands. Even gloved and backed into a corner, the instinct to avoid touching was hardwired. “Show me then, ab-hole. Show me what will happen if I keep messing with you.”

“Excuse me?” Clarke said, refusing to back away. Her heart was racing. Her mother had always told her her temper would get her in trouble. Just not this kind of trouble. 

“I said, show me,” Anya growled. 

Clarke’s right hand glove was ripped off by some invisible force. Clarke looked from her naked hand to Anya and before she could react, Anya grabbed Clarke’s right forearm. Against her will, Clarke felt her hand be pulled to Anya’s forearm like a magnet. Once latched on, Clarke felt a rush of warm energy begin to course through her arm. Anya’s face was triumphant. Clarke tried to pull away, but Anya held firm. 

“Stay away from us and her,” Anya said, starting to cough. “Lexa can’t see it, but I can. You’re going to ruin everything she’s worked…” A violent coughing fit interrupted Anya’s demands. Anya let go of Clarke’s forearm, but Clarke’s hand remained attached like a leech to her arm. Clarke tried to breathe and release Anya, but her body would not listen.

Anya’s life energy flowed through her hot like bitter coffee. So much different from Finn’s life force, which when now compared to Anya’s, was a candle in the wind. A horrific thought came to the forefront. She was going to kill Anya like she had killed Finn, and there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it. 

“Clarke, what are you doing?” Lexa yelled, appearing in the hallway. The brunette rushed to her side and grabbed Clarke’s wrist, trying to pull her off of Anya. Instantly, Lexa breathing became labored, as if something had sucked the air out of the room.

Clarke’s hand detached from Anya, allowing Anya to fall back and hold her neck, gasping for air. “Lex!” Anya coughed, trying to push herself up, failing miserably. 

The new energy coming from Lexa’s touch was intoxicating. If Anya was hot coffee, Lexa was what Clarke imagined taking cocaine would feel like. Clarke turned her head to face Lexa, her vision clouding. 

Clarke blinked furiously, trying to clear of her line of sight. The energy coursing from Lexa through her felt like nothing she had experienced, like an endless reserve. It reminded her of sunrises at the end of lacrosse practice or jumping into a cold pool on a hot summer day. Like she could run ten marathons without stopping. Except it wasn’t, it was Lexa, whose face was currently turning blue. 

“Clarke…” Lexa wheezed. Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hand but couldn’t pry it off her wrist. Again, Clarke started to truly panic. She tried pulling her wrist away from Lexa, but only succeeded in pulling Lexa with her. Lexa closed her eyes. The energy from Lexa’s hand on her wrist began to sear. Like burn, really burn. “Lexa?” As the smell of burning flesh met Clarke’s nose something reconnected in her brain, allowing her to release her grip on Lexa and Lexa’s grip on her. Lexa fell to the floor as Clarke yanked her arm back, finding a hand shaped bracelet of blistered red skin on her wrist. It stung like she’d held it over a bonfire for much too long. 

Lexa took short harried breaths. Anya sluggishly crawled her way over the brunette. 

_This has to convince her that blondie is dangerous to our people._

Clarke stared at Anya. The woman hadn’t said a word, still breathing with difficulty, but Clarke had heard her voice loud and clear. In her head.

Lexa glared at Anya. How the brunette was able to muster the energy was beyond Clarke. 

_What were you thinking?_

Lexa’s voice rang angry and clearly in Clarke’s head, but it was directed at Anya. Clarke squinted at the two to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

Anya scowled. _Proving my point._

If she hadn’t just experienced Lexa’s power herself, Clarke would have guessed shooting daggers out of her eyes was the brunette’s power by the way Lexa continued to look at Anya. 

_This was hardly the time to test Clarke or my patience. Why are you questioning me?_

“What the hell is going on?!” Clarke cried. Lexa looked from Anya to Clarke and back to Anya.

_Fix this, now._ Lexa’s voice in her head to Anya wasn’t a request, it was a command. 

“I have a temper,” Anya cleared her throat, standing up slowly. “Sue me.”

“I could have killed you!” Clarke snapped. 

Anya didn’t respond, so Clarke turned her rage towards Lexa. 

“And you. What were you thinking, touching me?”

“Anya was in trouble,” Lexa said in an even whisper. It was all she could manage.

“And what about this?” Clarke raised her arm to Lexa, showing her the blistered skin.

“You cannot control your powers, and I was protecting myself,” Lexa accepted Anya's help up to her feet. 

“But how did you do it?” Clarke asked, her voice cracking. _How did you stop me?_

“I channeled my power into my hand and focused," Lexa said, massaging her neck.

”I understand that. Sort of. I mean how did you get me to let go?” Clarke was on the verge of tears. 

“Pain is a good motivator,” Lexa said. _One lesson I don’t wish to repeat with you._ Clarke shook her head. Hearing Lexa’s voice without seeing her move her lips was still an odd sensation. 

Clarke stretched her fingers ignoring the burning of her wrist when she moved her hand. Other than the burn, she felt good. Really good. Better than she had in months. She lifted her hand to inspect her wrist, but quickly moved it away from her face as she realized her hand was on fire.

“The fuck!” Clarke yelled, waving her hand to extinguish the flames. They wouldn’t go away but they didn’t hurt. 

“For fucks sake,” Anya said, face palming herself.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” The lack of pain alarmed her. _Isn’t this Lexa’s power?_ She gave up waving her hand and opted to pat it on her jeans. That extinguished her hand but lit her jeans on fire. “No no no.” Clarke started jumping up and down, clearly losing any rational thought. This time the fire was actually burning and hurting.

“Stop, Clarke!” Lexa commanded and Clarke obeyed. In a flash, Lexa pressed her hand to Clarke’s thigh. Smoke escaped her palm. A few seconds later, Clarke breathed a sigh of relief when she couldn’t feel the bite of flames on her skin. Lexa was red faced as she removed her hand. A charred ring of denim greeted Clarke from her inner thigh. The skin underneath was red and blistered, sticking a little to the charred material of her pants. 

“Did you…” Clarke tried to catch her breath. “Absorb it?” 

Lexa studied Clarke briefly before shaking her head, “I manipulated the oxygen out of it.”

“You can manipulate oxygen?”

“It’s an element of combustion,” Lexa nodded.

“Wait. What?”

“I can explain later. For now we need to get you and Anya to the infirmary. Nyko should be there. Then we need to talk.” Lexa wasn’t talking to Clarke anymore. Anya crossed her arms. 

Clarke just stared dumbly at Lexa before rubbing her wrist. “I’m fine.”

“You have second degree burns on your skin.”

“Actually…” Clarke said, presenting her wrist to Lexa, the burn looked like it had happened weeks ago. Just red scarred skin remained. Even the burn on her thigh looked better.

“Still…” Lexa clenched her jaw. “We should get that checked out.”

“Fine," Clarke said, trudging behind Lexa and Anya.

* * *

  
  


“I can’t believe you went toe to toe with two Woods and lived,” Raven gushed. “Wait til Bellamy hears about this. He’s gonna be so jealous. You’re gonna be a legend.” 

Clarke leaned back in her desk chair, “I wouldn’t call it that.” Clarke didn’t feel like a legend. She felt confused and guilty. As soon as he had healed her, Nyko shooed her out of the medical ward and told her to go back to her room leaving her no chance to talk to Lexa or apologize. On top of that, she had withheld from Raven that she had absorbed and used both Anya’s and Lexa’s powers immediately after touching them. Mercifully, the extra powers were a temporary blight. She kept meaning to tell Raven, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Still. I’m glad someone put Psycho in her place.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Clarke shook her head. “Why does she hate me so much? She was accusing me of all this weird stuff.”

“Why does anyone do anything around here?”

Clarke watched Raven as she tinkered with an old fashioned looking radio. She had been working on it for weeks and wouldn’t tell Clarke the purpose. 

“Enlighten me?”

“Love,” Raven said without a hint of sarcasm. Two seconds later a pillow smacked Raven in the face, eliciting a yelp. 

“Come on," Clarke said from her new position on her bed. “Stop being an asshole.” She held another pillow menacingly. 

“What? I’m serious,” Raven said, putting down her tools and cradling the radio in a protective manner. 

Clarke put the pillow down. “So what, you’re telling me that Anya is in love with Lexa and that’s why she almost let me kill her and Lexa?”

Raven chuckled, “Anya’s not in love with _Lexa_ …” A blush crept up her neck to her cheeks. “Or anyone for that matter.”

“Nice save,” Clarke said, raising an eyebrow.

Rolling her eyes, Raven continued, “What I’m trying to say is that everyone here is really all we’ve got.” Raven sighed. “The Woods have lost more than most. They can be overprotective and come off as jerks, but once you get to know them you realize they’re not bad people… just hurt people.” 

Gently placing the radio on her desk, Raven walked to the door. Raven’s last words were barely a whisper, but Clarke managed to catch them as she walked out “...and hurt people hurt people sometimes.” 

Sighing, Clarke let herself fall back on her bed. From this angle, she could see her messenger bag hanging from the bed frame. She didn’t need to check her bag to know she had failed to return the book. She was never listening to her ‘friends’ again. The whole thing was a disaster from start to finish.

It was like Anya had been on drugs. Clarke had never seen the blonde so impassioned, aside from the time Clarke had witnessed Raven trick Anya into sitting on mayonnaise. Clarke chuckled at the thought until another hit her. One line from Anya’s break with sanity was on replay in Clarke’s head.

_“Admit it. She sent you. There’s no way a mutant with your power happened to fall out of the sky right when we needed it.”_

Clarke couldn’t for the life of her think of who ‘she’ was. It wasn’t Niylah, right? And how could her powers be helpful to anyone? Except maybe to a death squad or a group of highly trained assassins. Or people who tortured people? 

Clarke shook her head and sat up into a cross legged position. She looked down at her newly ruined jeans. There was no chance of salvaging them. Nyko couldn’t heal denim and the hole wasn’t even in a typical place where jeans were supposed to have holes. She placed her hand over the burnt mark and pretended that her jeans were in one piece, that she wasn’t well on her way to become a teenage serial killer, and that she hadn’t botched what was probably her only chance to get to know Lexa better. 

She released a long breath, trying to meditate like her dad had taught her once a long time ago. It only lasted a minute because the continued sensation of her hand on her thigh brought another memory roaring back into Clarke’s mind: the feeling of Lexa’s energy coursing through her, her skin on Clarke’s, her hand on Clarke’s inner thigh. Clarke's heartbeat made the slow, but traitorous, migration from her chest to her stomach, threatening to go further south. 

Clarke removed her hand from her thigh as if she had been burned, again. 

“Nope. Nope. Nope,” Clarke said, squeezing her eyes shut and willing the thoughts out of her head. There was no room for dwelling or feeling. It was what had gotten her in trouble today in the first place. And there was especially no room for _those_ types of feelings, no matter how unfair it was. 

But the feeling! Whether intentional or not, Lexa’s energy had awoken something in her. Clarke shivered. Was there something special about Lexa that made Clarke feel like this? Was it because she had already gotten warmed up by Anya? Why did each person’s energy...taste a little different? There were so many questions swirling in her head, none of which she knew how to get any answers for. 

Clarke settled for glaring at her cursed appendages. “You are never seeing the light of day again. You hear me?” Of course, her hands didn’t answer her because they were hands, and Clarke was left feeling confused and unsatisfied, in more ways than one. 

* * *

True to Raven’s word, Marcus Kane’s classes were informative as they were long winded. Clarke had learned that despite Becca’s fancy classification system, powers were never as clear as they seemed. Powers could grow and change with the user. New powers could emerge. Some powers even faded after a time. Another fun mystery was where powers emanated from a mutant’s body. Some mutants, like Professor Indra Seda, could use their power to coat their entire bodies, others like Octavia and Bellamy could only create from specific parts of their body.

So far, Clarke’s classes consisted of: Intro to Powers, Mutant History 101, Life Skills, Math, and Mutant Physiology. Why they still had to learn any math while having superhuman powers was beyond Clarke. It was near the end of one of these very boring math classes that Professor Kane told Clarke that Becca wanted to see her after class. It didn't take more than a second for Jasper to croon, “Oooh, Clarke’s in trouble!”

“Shut it, Jasper,” Clarke rolled her eyes. Jasper just smiled and elbowed Monty for support. Monty shook his head at Jasper’s antics. It had been a week since the incident with Anya and Lexa. There was no physical evidence of their scuffle though, Nyko had made sure of that. Dread crept over Clarke. She had been waiting to be called to Becca’s office for days. It would have been sooner, but the Doctor was out on some trip gathering mutants or whatever she did. Now Clarke was sure she was going to be kicked out. She had even packed most of her stuff earlier that week despite Raven's assurances. 

“Professor Kane, I haven't been to Becca’s office in a while.” Clarke couldn’t count the number of times she’d gotten lost in the maze that was Franko’s. All she knew was that her hallway had American modernist flower paintings, the gym and the hallway leading to the cafeteria had landscapes, and Becca’s hallway had fruits. The thought of going alone to her demise was also making her nervous. 

“Of course. Any volunteers to walk Miss. Griffin?”

“I’ll do it,” Monty said, raising his hand. 

“Thank you, Mr. Green.” 

Clarke smiled at Monty and went back to not paying attention to math. She wondered what Becca would say. Would she regret taking Clarke in? Where would she go? The last time they had talked was two months ago when Becca had given Clarke her first set of gloves. What kinda freak gets kicked out of their own freak school?

Sighing, Clarke looked down at her notebook, distracting herself with her doodles. She had drawn a couple sets of gloves, some scratchy lines that could be interpreted as trees, and the start of an iris. It wasn’t her best doodle work, but she was getting better. Learning how to draw with gloves had been a challenge. Each set presented a unique issue. Some of the gloves were too bulky to get a real grip on her writing utensil and others smeared the pen marks more than others. She had already stained some of her lighter colored gloves. Just the left ones, but still. You would think being left handed she would have learned the art of not smudging, but the glove thing had set her back a few years.

When the bell finally rang, Clarke packed up her notebook and pens, being careful not to smudge fresh ink on the light grey gloves she was wearing that day. 

Monty walked to the door, “You ready, Clarke?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” She didn’t want to admit to anyone that Becca gave her the creeps. She was a nice enough person, but there was something about the eccentric professor, beyond the blood manipulation, that was off. Also, Becca was never around. She was out in the field meeting new mutants or soliciting donations to the school so often that Clarke forgot she ran the school, too.

As they walked, Clarke adjusted the strap of her messenger bag. _Maybe Becca will let me keep the bag._

“Thanks again for volunteering to walk me,” Clarke said, trying to distract herself.

“Well, I figured it would be good to walk you, because I’m part of the reason you’re seeing Becca today,” Monty flashed her reassuring smile. 

“You are?” Clarke said, almost stopping in her tracks. Why did it feel like she was walking into a trap? 

“You’ll see,” Monty said, never losing his grin. Clarke was tempted to pester Monty to reveal how he was involved in this surprise trip to Becca’s office but didn’t get a chance. Clarke recognized the fruit on the walls, signaling their arrival and her imminent eviction. Who knew fruit could be scary? Monty knocked on the office door.

“Come in,” Becca’s voice sounded chipper, Clarke noted. Inside, Clarke found Becca sitting at her desk and Lexa sitting in one of the guest chairs.

“Clarke, thank you for coming,” Becca welcomed Clarke in with a smile.

Lexa on the other hand was not smiling in the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so completely off topic. Did anyone watch Wynonna Earp Season 4 Ep 2 last Sunday? Spoilers: it is what smutty fanfiction writers wish they could do. Somebody get me a cold shower.


	4. Take Me by the Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke can't seem to catch a break, but maybe she'll catch something else...feels, people. FEELS. Not corona.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG. I have been gone forever, and not totally on purpose. I had this big thing due in October that took over my life, but now I'm back! I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Finally getting some Clexa in. Forgive me for not coming back sooner. Hope you're staying safe. 
> 
> Sidenote: I'm With You by Avril Lavigne got stuck in my head when I was finishing this chapter and I just had to quote it below cause I feel like it fits.
> 
> Isn't anyone tryin' to find me?  
> Won't somebody come take me home?  
> It's a damn cold night  
> Trying to figure out this life  
> Won't you take me by the hand?  
> Take me somewhere new  
> I don't know who you are  
> But I, I'm with you  
> I'm with you, yeah, yea

Clarke had to resist the urge to turn tail as soon as she saw the brunette waiting.  _ What is Lexa doing here?  _ Clarke gripped her bag tighter. She had been expecting an eviction, not a literal firing squad.

Becca turned to Monty, “Thank you, Monty. Lexa and Clarke will meet you in classroom B in a few minutes.” For a perverse second the image of Monty tying her up with vines while Lexa flambeed her ran through her head.  _ Becca wouldn’t do that, right? Monty sure wouldn’t. And yet... _

Monty nodded and winked at Clarke leaving her alone with the two unwavering brunettes. Monty’s bet flashed in her mind. _That little weedy weasel._

With little choice, Clarke took the only other available chair in the room, next to Lexa, being careful to stay as far away as possible without falling onto the floor. If Lexa was offended, Clarke didn’t care and couldn’t tell because she was avoiding eye contact.

Becca's mega-watt smile only seemed to get brighter as she began to speak, “This is Le-”

“Lexa Woods,” Clarke said. “We’ve met.” How could she forget? Clarke had tried to avoid the brunette since their incident last week, going so far as to try discreetly covering her face with a notebook if she thought she was in Lexa’s view. That tactic only lasted one day because Raven had immediately taken it as an invitation to high-five the notebook into Clarke’s face. This was all Clarke's fault for having that awkward staring contest the other night at the party. She should have known better to stare at Miss. Omni perfect-jawline girl. 

Clarke tightened her grip on her bag, feeling the now annoyingly familiar shape of Lexa's book in her bag. What she was still carrying it around for, Clarke didn't know.

“Good. I’ve reviewed your situation with Lexa and she volunteered to help tutor you twice a week after Math class for the next few weeks.”

Clarke immediately furrowed her brows. What did Becca mean by her situation? Had she told Lexa about Finn? Was her life now a book on display at a public library? Was she referring to the incident with Anya? She wasn’t getting kicked out?

“I’m doing fine in Math,” Clarke said, deflecting. Sure a C+ on her last test wasn’t ace-ing, but it wasn’t failing either. 

Becca smiled easily, “Like you, many students struggle to control their powers at the beginning, including Lexa.”

Clarke let herself watch Lexa nod devoid of any emotion. Clarke doubted the brunette had ever struggled to do anything. If rumors were to be believed, the brunette was not only an accomplished mutant but good at everything else she did. She had survived Clarke, hadn’t she?

“Like you, Lexa’s powers emanate from her hands. Lexa’s one of our top physical class mutants. I think you two will do well together. I’d like to see what you can accomplish before the end of the semester.”

Whatever Becca said next was lost as Clarke looked at Lexa’s hands, currently folded over the brunette’s lap. Perfectly manicured nails with a clear cover of nail polish. No gloves, no layers, just her light tan hands, one of which had once been offered to her in an expression of greeting with no reservations. The same one that had burnt her to save Anya. 

“I look forward to working with you, Clarke,” Lexa said, all business with no attempt at a handshake. Clarke was forced to look up from Lexa’s lap. She tried to read Lexa’s face for emotion, looking from deep green eyes to full lips. For a moment, Clarke forgot the reason she had avoided the brunette. Lexa was attractive in the way that only self-possessed women were.

“Thanks?”

Once Becca dismissed them, Clarke followed Lexa to classroom B, a small classroom that made up for space with large windows facing the courtyard. Monty was pouring the remaining dirt from a bag into some pots on the teachers desk. He offered a smile when they arrived. _So maybe vine flambé wasn't on the menu today_.

“Almost done, Lexa. Was there a specific plant you’re thinking about?”

Lexa thought for a minute, playing with a small pocket knife Clarke hadn’t noticed she was holding. Surely, there were rules against having weapons at school. On second thought, any student at the school could be classified as a weapon. The knife in Lexa’s hand might be the safest object in the room. Clarke's thoughts were interrupted by Lexa’s voice, “Maybe a succulent, Monty.”

“Coming right up,” Monty placed his hand on the dirt and closed his eyes. Within minutes, a 12 inch jade plant with plenty of fleshy dark green leaves had sprouted underneath his hand. The only reason that Clarke was able to identify the plant was because it was one of the few plants her mother couldn't kill. It had taken years of mother's days gifts to learn that. 

“Anything else?” Monty asked, satisfied with himself and always eager to please.

“I think for today, this should be enough. Thank you, Monty,” Lexa said, moving the rest of the pots off of the professor’s desk, leaving only the jade plant.

Monty nodded, squeezing Clarke’s arm as he left, “Go get ‘em, Clarke.” 

Clarke accepted the encouraging gesture with a weak smile. She wanted to be mad at Monty, but his tone was genuine, bet or no bet.

“Let’s begin,” Lexa again was all business. She stood on one side of the desk, facing Clarke. She placed the pocket knife in the pocket of her ripped black skinny jeans, focusing only on the blonde.

“Wait," Clarke said, putting her bag down on top of a student desk. She took a deep breath before saying, "Don’t you want to talk about last week?”

“What is there to discuss?” Lexa blinked once, as if she'd already forgotten their encounter. 

“I...we...you, Anya?” Clarke waved her hands wildly and pointed to her wrist. Was she not conveying the ‘hey-I-almost-killed-you-and-this-would-traumatize-any-person’ message? 

“Yes," Lexa raised an eyebrow. "And?”

“And? And...I wanted to apologize, I guess,” Clarke said hurriedly, rummaging through her messenger bag until she found Lexa’s book. A small part of her had been hoping she could return it to Niylah and avoid dealing with Lexa altogether, but an even smaller part was trilling at the thought of returning the book to Lexa, even under these odd circumstances. “I was trying to return this when we…”, 

“Thank you,” Lexa said, grabbing the book and reaching for her own messenger bag. A little green gear looking patch was sewn into the side next to the infinity logo. “Anya explained what happened, and even if she hadn’t, you’re left handed. It wouldn’t make sense for you to initiate an attack with your non-dominant hand.”

“How did you know I’m left-handed?” Clarke frowned. She couldn’t recall sharing that detail with Lexa, or anyone, out loud at least. 

“You were holding your solo cup with your left hand at the party,” Lexa said, conspicuously not looking at Clarke. She placed her book in her bag and plucked out a small red spiral bound notebook.

“Right,” Clarke said, scrutinizing Lexa. Not creepy at all. “So…” Clarke waited for Lexa to apologize for burning her. The insistent tick of the room's clock’s minute hand made Clarke realize she probably wasn’t getting one. 

“Good. Now, shall we begin?” Lexa tapped the edge of the notebook against the jade plant's pot. 

“Sure,” Clarke said, sighing in defeat. Maybe Lexa was one of those girls you enjoyed looking at from afar. In person, not only was Lexa intimidating and brief, but Clarke was learning she was just as single-minded and almost emotionless. 

“What does it feel like when you use your power?”

“What?” Clarke had started to try to figure out what Monty’s plants had to do with anything and hadn’t heard the question. 

Undeterred, Lexa asked again adding,  “Physically, what do you feel? Any particular sensations?”

Clarke bit her lip for a moment. She had tried to avoid thinking about the sensations her powers gave her as much as possible. Each time, or better put, each person brought a different sensation. Emotionally it was horrifying, but physically...it was addictive, not that Clarke would admit it. After a few seconds, realizing Lexa was still waiting, she volunteered what she thought was the safest word, “Warmth.”

“Where?” Lexa continued. Clarke felt her cheeks warm up. It felt like an intimate question to ask, and Clarke thought about ignoring it entirely before seeing Lexa’s clinical but expectant face. If the girl had ulterior motives, Clarke would never learn them.  _ Maybe Raven was right about Lexa’s lack of tact. _

Clarke sighed, “In my fingers? Through my arms?” _In my lips? To my core…_ but Clarke wasn’t about to say that out loud to Lexa. Speaking of keeping secrets, Clarke asked, “What did Becca tell you...about me?” 

“What I needed to know,” Lexa said cryptically. Clarke crossed her arms, unimpressed. As if reading Clarke’s mind, Lexa added, “That you need to learn how to control your powers and to avoid touching you.”

Again, heat rushed to Clarke’s face at the implication Lexa’s words brought to her mind. “Well, we already broke that rule.”

Lexa blinked at Clarke, and said, "Yes. Let's avoid that going forward," before returning to her notebook. 

_Ouch._ “Why are you doing this?” 

“This?” Lexa looked up to meet Clarke's gaze. 

“Tutoring me? I assume you have better things to do,” Clarke said, uncrossing her arms. 

“It benefits everyone at Franko’s to have control over one's abilities,” Lexa made eye contact with Clarke. “And I was available. So, as I was saying, let’s begin.” 

Clarke resisted the urge to scoff. Who did Lexa think she was telling her what to do? And what kind of answer was that?

Lexa pulled a healthy leaf off the succulent, “I want you to hold this leaf.”

Clarke looked from Lexa to the leaf and back. This was the weirdest tutoring she had ever had. 

“Okay,” Clarke finally said, reaching out for the leaf. After waiting for a moment for Lexa to drop the leaf into her hand, she made eye contact with Lexa, who cleared her throat and nodded to Clarke’s hand. She still had her gloves on. 

“Oh. Sorry. It's a habit now,” If any more heat flooded Clarke's face, she might become an oven. 

“That’s alright,” Lexa said, giving Clarke time to remove her gloves.

Clarke studied her gloved hands for a moment. She had promised herself they would never see the light of day, but that was unrealistic. She’d already run around all morning without them when she had painted her nails an obnoxious biohazard yellow. What did it matter the color she had on if no one could see it. 

Sighing dramatically, Clarke slowly pulled at each of the glove finger sheaths of her left hand until the glove was loose and pulled it off. Her hand was a little sweaty from being under the glove, but the polish had remained intact. Her pale fingers didn’t look so menacing right now. 

She looked back at Lexa, finding an expectant look on the brunette’s face. She reached out to Lexa, leaving a foot between them. Lexa moved her hand over Clarke’s, letting it hover before dropping the leaf into Clarke’s left hand. Both girls watched the leaf as nothing happened.

“Interesting," Lexa said, jotting something down in her notebook. "Maybe Becca’s theory was wrong.” 

“Theory?” Obviously, Becca had told Lexa more than just to avoid touching her. 

“Plants have chemical potential energy, from photosynthesis. Animals gain kinetic energy from eating plants and converting that potential energy,” Lexa looked to Clarke, and Clarke pretended she understood what was happening by nodding. She may have originally wanted to go to med school and taken all the requisite biology classes, but she had long since pushed all the information out of her mind in favor of art history. 

Lexa continued, “If you are a kinetic absorber, it stands to reason your power acts like a converter and could drain the potential energy of a plant to gain kinetic energy.” 

Lexa stopped and waited for a response. Clarke nodded even more confidently before admitting, “You lost me after photosynthesis.”

Lexa pursed her lips, “Everything has energy, potential or kinetic, and Becca thought that meant you could absorb energy from something like a plant. Something living but not an animal.” 

Clarke looked at her palm, noting that the leaf was still green.

“That theory might be a bust,” Clarke said, partially relieved. 

“Yes. Monty will be disappointed he can't be of more help," Lexa began jotting down notes. "We might have to order some baby mice or try with crickets?” 

As the sharp scratches of Lexa’s pen on paper reached Clarke's ear, it finally clicked for her what Becca, and by extension Lexa, wanted to test: her power on living things. Plants would be the safest route to start with, but if nothing happened, then of course they would need to move to real living things. Clarke’s stomach squirmed at the thought of holding baby mice in her hand only to watch them expire at her touch. The image of Finn’s face flashed unbidden into her mind. It had been a week since she had been forcefully reminded of her accident. Subconsciously, her left hand balled into a fist around the leaf. For the briefest moment, Clarke felt a dreadfully familiar warm tingle in her hand. 

“No,” Clarke whispered, closing her eyes. She felt like she was five again in kindergarten when she had peed her pants waiting for recess. She knew she had messed up and didn’t want to face the consequences. Didn’t want to find people disappointed or disgusted with her. 

“Clarke?” Lexa's voice broke through, softer than Clarke had ever heard it. It was that unexpected gentleness that made Clarke open her eyes. She expected pity or even fear to meet her, but instead she found something else. If Clarke was being nice to herself, she would have labeled it understanding, but because she had long since stopped being kind to herself, she ignored Lexa’s patient eyes to glance down at her own fist. She held her breath as she uncurled her fingers. 

A shriveled excuse for a leaf greeted her. She let out a breath only to have it come back as a sharp inhale and then a wet choked sob. A teardrop landed on her thumb and slowly slid down until it reached the crumpled leaf. Lexa watched as Clarke backed away from the teacher's desk, a mix of horror and anger overtaking the blonde’s features. Clarke’s left hand shook so much she tried to steady it by grabbing her arm with her right hand. From Lexa’s vantage point it looked like Clarke was trying to get away from her own hand or pull out her arm entirely. 

“Clarke…it’s okay,” Lexa said, taking a step around the desk in Clarke’s direction.

With every step forward Lexa took, Clarke took two back, clumsily pushing student desks aside in her haste to remove herself. She shook her head, more teardrops rolling down her face. “All I am is death...all I do… it's… I’m a...”  _ Monster _ . She opened her mouth to continue but couldn’t get it out. She had started hyperventilating. She couldn’t have this conversation with Lexa right now, with anyone really, and if she stayed in the room, she would crumple to the floor and never get up. The leaf fell out of her hand as she turned, grabbed her bag, and ran out of the classroom, furiously pulling her gloves back on, and looking anywhere by the brunette who hadn’t once sent her a judging look. 

Lexa didn’t take after Clarke, instead choosing to walk over to the leaf and crouch down to pick it up. She turned the leaf over in her hand and squeezed it with her fingers. The leaf was dry, but it didn’t break. A small smile graced her lips. There was hope yet for Clarke Griffin. Even if the blonde couldn’t see it herself. 

* * *

After the failure that was their first session, Clarke thought she would be done with tutoring. She had had to survive merciless teasing from the Delinquents and apparently Monty had won some different bet. As far as Clarke was concerned, the less of Lexa Clarke saw, the better. 

Yet two days later, like clockwork, she found Lexa waiting for her after math class. She was wearing a black turtleneck sweater paired with olive colored high waisted pants and matching black combat boots. The tentative smile on Lexa's face telling Clarke that she came in peace. Had she seen Lexa smile before? Yes, but not at her. Right? Clarke reminded herself that Lexa smiling at her was not the point. She was mad at herself and at Lexa for making things worse. Clarke stood still for a moment deciding what to do. She contemplated running again but it seemed rude and childlike. How many times could you run from the same person before gaining a reputation? So instead of running, she made an exaggeratedly loud sigh and started walking to the classroom with Lexa close behind. 

Once inside the classroom, Lexa closed the door. _As if that could stop me._ Clarke had taken a seat on top of a student desk, and was now looking out the window, studying the courtyard. Classroom B had a perfect view of the school’s courtyard. Her favorite part was a large fountain with a carved infinity symbol rising from the water. From certain angles the infinity symbol looked like a fish. She heard the sound of Lexa’s boots coming towards her but didn’t acknowledge her presence. 

“Here,” Lexa said, drawing Clarke’s attention to her outstretched hand. The little crumpled leaf looked even more pitiful today in Lexa’s palm, a part of it had even broken off. 

“I don’t want it,” Clarke said, refusing to meet Lexa’s eyes. “I don’t care what Becca wants us to do, I’m not doing this. I’ll sit here because she pays for my room and board, but that doesn’t mean I have to participate.”

“Clarke,” Lexa said patiently, pushing the leaf back into her vision.

Clarke turned her body away from Lexa, so Lexa walked into Clarke’s view and waited until Clarke looked up.

When Clarke realized that Lexa wasn’t going anywhere she turned to face Lexa and spat, “What? Don't you get it? I don't want to learn how to kill people on purpose!"

Without warning, Lexa pulled Clarke’s right hand out and slapped hers on top of it. Panic filled Clarke for a moment until she remembered that she was wearing gloves. She was about to cuss Lexa out for scaring the crap out of her, when Lexa removed her right hand. 

The dried up leaf was sitting in her palm, unbroken and slightly greener than she had seen it a minute ago. Clarke turned it over with her thumb, finding nothing missing from the leaf. She stared back at Lexa who opened her left fist to reveal the now even more broken dried up leaf Lexa had started the lesson with. Two different leaves.

“It is possible,” Lexa paused expecting Clarke to argue, but when the blonde didn’t comment, she continued. “You can control your powers and never have to hurt anyone again. With time and practice of course.” 

Clarke swallowed a retort. Too caught up in disbelief.

“The leaf in your hand was the one from our first session. The one I’m holding is from a different plant. A plant Monty dried out for me.” 

“There’s a difference...” Clarke whispered. 

“ _ Your _ leaf is not crumbling to pieces,” Lexa said, waiting for realization to dawn on Clarke. 

The blonde’s eyes widened, “There’s still energy in it.”

“Yes,” Lexa nodded, glad to have Clarke reach the same conclusion she had after the last session. Clarke held the leaf between two gloved finger tips and turned her gaze to Lexa. 

“Are you ready to try again?” Lexa asked as a small smile graced her features. Another peace offering. The smile made Clarke want to turn away. Who was she to deserve any sympathy any second or third chances? She was being a dick to Lexa, who really only seemed to want to help. Even in her own semi-clinical way. So Clarke focused on her leaf, her not totally dead leaf, and let go of a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“I could give it another go,” Clarke said, returning a pathetic smile without meeting Clarke's eyes. She felt like an idiot, maybe Lexa would be able to teach her after all. 

“Good,” Lexa said, walking back to the potted succulent on the table. Lexa tugged at a leaf until it detached.  “Let’s begin.”

* * *

They quickly realized that Clarke’s power took a second to kick in with the leaves. Lexa guessed it was due to the conversion, so she started timing how long it would take for Clarke’s powers to activate. The average was 100 seconds, but Clarke no longer became excited if she could pass the 2 minute mark. It always ended the same way, crumpled leaf in hand. 

When Clarke had explained her 100 second average to Raven that night, the brunette had made a joke about premature ejaculation. That ended any serious conversations with Raven about tutoring.

By week three of tutoring, Lexa’s stoic demeanor had started to fade. She still spoke like a general, but small encouraging smiles or dry humor escaped her more often than not. For her part, Clarke wanted to be anywhere but in that classroom killing leaf after leaf, plant after plant. She didn’t understand why Lexa had taken her on. Had Becca forced her? It couldn’t be enjoyable to spend two hours a week watching Clarke flounder.

It wasn’t a total failure though, Clarke had made a breakthrough in week four. Lexa had been trying different methods for Clarke to hold the leaf. Trying with two fingers or three. Closing her fist, leaving it open. Nothing had worked until Lexa had tossed the leaf at Clarke when she hadn’t been paying attention. 

Clarke had been staring out the large classroom windows enjoying the sunset and wishing she had a set of watercolors to capture the moment. Next thing she knew, Lexa had yelled catch and she turned to find a leaf flying in her direction. Despite knowing that touching the leaf meant draining the energy out of it, Clarke lunged for it, some of her athletic instincts kicking in. Once in her hand, the leaf remained green longer than it ever had. When Clarke started to feel the now very familiar tingle of energy from the leaf, she dropped it on the desk. 

“Three minutes,” Lexa said, turning the timer off on her phone. “That’s an improvement, Clarke. What felt different?” Lexa pulled out what Clarke had dubbed her handy-dandy notebook. It had taken all her power not to bust out into the Blue’s Clues song when the nickname came to her. It’s one thing to be a freak, it's a whole nother thing to be a weirdo.  Apparently Lexa had never watched Blue’s Clues growing up, because every time Clarke referenced her notebook that way, Lexa commented that it was a ‘very handy notebook, indeed’. Lexa had even offered to get Clarke one since she seemed so amused with it. Clarke had politely refused.

Snapping out of her notebook memory, Clarke sat back in shock. She had been staring at the leaf for three minutes before it crumpled in on itself. The only difference had been that Lexa had caught Clarke off guard. Clarke wanted to cry for a whole different set of reasons. It felt like their second session of tutoring, when Lexa had shown her there was hope between crumpled leaves and a little sleight of hand.

“You surprised me,” Clarke said. Lexa jotted something down.

“And...” Lexa said, looking back up at Clarke. 

Clarke shrugged. Explaining how her powers felt continued to elude Clarke. It was like explaining what it felt like to draw a picture. Clarke could describe the soothing sensation of a well drawn pencil line and the resistance paper gave under lead or charcoal, but actually describing the feeling of creating something took more effort.

“Clarke,” Lexa brought her attention back. If she were anyone else, Clarke would have expected Lexa to throw up her hands in exasperation. Instead the brunette doubled down on her stare. “Work with me. We can isolate this and reproduce it. It could work.” 

Clarke could hear the excitement in Lexa’s voice urging her forward. Emotions from either girl were hard to come by during their tutoring sessions. After her many public freak outs in front of Lexa, Clarke had begun acting detached and sullen to hide her insecurities. Lexa continued to be 'Lexa' while skillfully alluding any questions Clarke made about her past. 

Lexa’s pleased tone made Clarke push herself to think, to really dig into what had been going on in her head when she grabbed the leaf. Then she realized that she hadn’t been thinking of anything at all.

“It… I… didn’t want it to fall. I didn’t think about my powers or my fear… I just caught it and was happy I didn’t drop it… I guess?”

Lexa smiled. A radiant one that left Clarke wanting to exchange her power for the power to make Lexa smile like that all the time. Clarke felt warm and blamed it on the leaf’s energy. She could lie to herself, for now at least.

“This is amazing, Clarke,” Lexa said as she picked up the leaf to inspect it. 

Something in Clarke bloomed at Lexa’s pride. She knew the brunette was starting to wear at Clarke’s repeated failure despite her best efforts to hide it. The way her eyebrows furrowed right before placing both hands on the desk to balance herself. Leaning into the desk, staring straight down like she was reading a war map instead of unraveling Clarke’s power. The few times she had beaten Lexa to the classroom, she had found Lexa deep into her tutoring notebook notes, comparing them to textbooks written by Becca herself. Each time, Clarke was surprised by her continued presence and persistence. 

Didn’t she have better things to do then watch Clarke kill Monty’s succulents? Something better than playing teacher with a ticking time bomb?

* * *

By the seventh week, Clarke had managed to hold a handful of leaves without draining them, at least for as long as Lexa could get Clarke out of her head. This consisted of Lexa finding new ways to distract Clarke. 

Originally, Lexa threw things at Clarke, which Clarke believed Lexa liked way too much to be purely professional. She had started with leaves, then pencils, dirt, paper, markers, erasers, and anything that could be found in the teachers’ drawer. Clarke drew the line at staplers after Lexa had almost hit her in the face with one. She wasn't even aiming at Clarke's hands! Cleaning up after tutoring was always a pain, but it was worth it to hear Lexa’s clipped giggle whenever Clarke hadn’t managed to duck in time to avoid a paperclip.

When Clarke had acclimated to the throws, Lexa began shutting and opening the blinds at unexpected times, the afternoon sun breaking Clarke’s thoughts. Aside from blinding her, the light also showcased Lexa’s dark brown waves like Clarke had never seen before. Everything about Lexa was so dark and broody, but under the sunsets’ rays, Clarke caught hints of auburn and chestnut in Lexa’s hair, and flashes of hazel and gold in her green eyes. All Clarke wanted to do was dump the leaves and take a brush to canvas. She had started drawing Lexa from memory when she was alone in her room, but it never measured up to the real person in front of her.

When Clarke started draining leaves again even under the glare of the descending sun, Lexa adjusted accordingly. Lexa had learned that Clarke could be distracted with the right words. 

For example, during the last session, Clarke had picked up a handful of leaves only to hear Lexa say the word, “dipthong” in the most clinical way possible. Clarke had to stop herself from dropping the leaves and laughing. She swore that Lexa was making some of these up. Words like argle-bargle and fipple couldn’t be real. Lexa had said they served a dual purpose, as SAT words. As if college was on the table for Clarke. 

After finding her breath, Clarke would shake her head at Lexa, who was trying very hard not to smile at her own antics. Lexa would then nod her head towards Clarke’s hand, all leaves intact and green as the moment they had been plucked. Then all the joking would fade, leaving Clarke with newfound pride at their shared accomplishment. Clarke could take credit for finding some semblance of control, but without Lexa’s never ending patience, creativity, and veiled optimism, Clarke would never have made it this far in so little time. Even Becca had seemed impressed by their progress reports, going so far as to predict that Clarke might be glove-free by the end of the school year. That was six short months from now. 

Most students at Franko’s stayed at Franko’s, joining mutant scouting teams or becoming teachers, never to go back to what students called nomu-life or non-mutant lives. Since powers did not stop developing, there was no better place than Franko’s to learn and practice them without fear of repercussions or ostracization by greater society. Clarke’s only goal had been to protect those around her by removing herself. But if control was possible, she could go back to her life like nothing had ever happened. One small blessing of her powers was that they were undetectable. She didn't change color, or grow limbs, or sprout metal from her body like some mutants. She could pass as normal.  Upon arriving at Franko’s, that had been her only wish, to be normal again and go home, but the longer she stayed, the longer she realized her goal was changing. 

She could go back and pretend to be nomu, but it would never be the same. Coming to Franko’s was like she had taken the red pill in the Matrix. How could she forget Raven’s ability to play pirated HBO on an etch-a-sketch (don’t ask, Clarke had no idea), Echo’s indoor aurora borealis, or Monty’s impossible bonsai collection? A miniature full grown red wood was nothing to blink at. How could she go about her day knowing that Octavia and Bellamy were literal weapons and that Niylah could put Oprah to shame? How could she go back when the most understanding eyes she’d ever seen were here in this school and nowhere else? 

On the subject of eyes, Clarke recognized the look in Lexa’s that day and braced herself. Bright eyes and hint of a smirk only meant one thing, Lexa was eager to propose a new challenge.

“The whole plant?” Clarke thought over Lexa’s suggestion for a moment. “You can’t be throwing things at me though.”

Lexa gave Clarke a ‘try me’ look.

“I mean it,” Clarke chided. She didn’t know when their relationship had changed from awkward and polite to this relaxed sarcastic banter, but she liked it.

“No, I suppose we will have to change tactics,” Lexa tapped her palm with the blunt side of her pocket knife. “Wouldn’t want the pots to break.”

“Glad to know where I stand in relation to pots.”

“If professor Kane slips one more time on a missed marker, we lose classroom privileges. Imagine if he cut himself on pottery glass,” Lexa carried on, ignoring Clarke's fake offended gasp. “Which means you are going to figure out how to restrain yourself like you have with the individual leaves.”

Clarke took a deep breath in and exhaled. She wanted to be ready for this and if she was being honest, she didn’t want to let Lexa down. The other girl’s constant patience and presence coupled with encouraging smiles when Clarke succeeded had started to fill Clarke. Like water filling a dry clay fountain, bringing color and noise back into her life. 

Clarke couldn’t let herself sit in that feeling. Unbeknownst to Lexa, lately, it had been easier for Clarke to suppress her powers because her biggest distraction was in the same room. Clarke wasn’t sure when exactly she had started to fall for the brunette. Lexa was obviously attractive, anyone with or without eyes could see that, but something else about the girl had buried itself in Clarke’s chest. 

Maybe it was those soft smiles when Clarke didn’t give up on herself, or the way Clarke could predict Lexa’s mood based on how much she fiddled with her pocket knife, or maybe it was the way Lexa looked at Clarke when she thought Clarke wasn’t looking. Like most of Lexa’s idiosyncrasies, the glances were subtle but persistent, like Clarke was a puzzle for Lexa to solve. That didn’t necessarily mean the brunette felt anything in return for her, but it definitely made Clarke feel things. Things girls with energy sucking powers were not allowed to feel, Clarke reminded herself for the third time that day.

“Okay. Plant me,” Clarke said, cautiously optimistic. 

That’s when things started going down hill. The plant wilted in her hands within minutes. She felt a larger rush than she had holding the little leaves that left her wanting to puke. Not because it didn’t feel good, it felt like a sugar rush after eating cotton candy, but it was inching closer to what she had felt with Finn.

When Clarke looked up from the dried up plant bracing for rebuke, she found Lexa’s smile instead. She was holding the stop watch they used to track her progress.

“1 minute and 49 seconds. That’s better than the first time you held a leaf and you had no direct distractions.” 

"Right. No distractions," Clarke said, looking away.  “The conversion probably takes longer for the whole plant,” Clarke added, shrugging. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke caught Lexa raising her eyebrows. 

“Yes, I’ve been listening to your science talk,” and sometimes it was nice to be able to blame her power on things other than herself. 

“My science talk," Lexa bit her lip, and Clarke almost about died. Lea shook her head, "Still, it is progress. Especially considering the more you use your powers the stronger you will get.”

Clarke froze. Lexa’s attempt at encouragement didn’t have its intended effect. If she had killed Finn without any practice, and almost killed Anya and Lexa, was tutoring just setting herself up for death on a larger scale? You don’t learn to drive a car and then park it in the garage forever. Control was great and all, but was it reliable? Could she trust herself? Could anyone else?

“I’m… not feeling well today, Lexa. Can we call it a day?” Clarke hated lying to the brunette but she couldn’t get past her own thoughts. She was going to start spiraling any minute. She could feel it. 

Lexa held Clarke’s eyes for a moment studying her. Lexa had called Clarke out many times when she had feigned ill. Today would be no different. 

“Of course.” 

Clarke struggled to hide her surprise, “Really?”

“We can start fresh next session. I have some ideas,” Lexa pulled the dead plant out of its pot and dumped it in a trash bin, leaving the pot ready for Monty's use next time.

“Thanks,” Clarke grabbed her messenger bag and scurried away.

Clarke was halfway to her room when she saw Raven walking in the same direction. Clarke waved a hello to Raven.

“Letting loose, Bubble Girl?” Raven nudged Clarke with her elbow. 

“Huh?” Clarke took a moment to check herself. She had on a pair of tight high waisted ripped jeans, a cropped white shirt tied at the bottom, and her favorite leather jacket. Normal school attire, when you lived at school and no one could enforce uniforms.  According to Raven, Franko’s had once tried to institute uniforms, but making unique power resistant clothing proved cost prohibitive. Additionally, people wearing one piece full body spandex seemed ridiculous. Instead, the students were free to destroy their own clothes. 

Finishing her self-assessment, and ready to accuse Raven of being a weirdo, Clarke paused upon seeing a flash of pale skin escaping the mouth of one of her sleeves. There it was, her left hand, nude, or at least uncovered. She had never forgotten to put her gloves back on after a session. She had been in such a hurry to get away it hadn’t registered that she was missing a glove. Clarke instantly shoved her hand into her jacket pocket. 

“I gotta go, Raven. See you at dinner!” Clarke yelled as she started running back the way she came. She could have gone to her room and put on a fresh pair of gloves, but she wasn’t in the mood for Raven’s teasing. She could already hear Raven in her head saying something about no glove-no love. Closer to the classroom, Clarke slowed to an aggressive walk not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention. 

Since coming to Franko’s, most people had been welcoming, until they learned about her power. Other than the Delinquents, the teachers and Lexa, most students now gave Clarke a wide berth. She hadn’t told anyone about Finn, but somehow people knew to stay away. It hurt, but not as much as it hurt when Clarke told herself she deserved it for being a monster. 

A sigh of relief escaped her as Classroom B's sign came into view. She was about to enter the room when she heard voices. She backed away enough to stand by the doorway but not be seen. 

“Why are you still wasting your time with her?” It took Clarke a moment to place Anya’s voice, which sounded characteristically irritated.

“It is not wasted with her,” Lexa replied easily.  _ Are they talking about me? _

“You volunteered to tutor a walking death trap,” Anya hissed. So they were talking about her.  _ Rude _ . Clarke scoffed silently to herself. That was a low blow, she’d only killed one person and dozens of plants. And technically that one spider that Raven had basically begged her to kill. 

“You don’t need to resort to name calling, Anya,” Lexa said. “Clarke hasn’t killed anyone... here.” Clarke stopped breathing. Lexa knew. How'd she know? How long? The whole time? Was it Becca? She fought the urge to run into the room and demand Lexa tell her what she knew about Finn.

“Yet,” Anya added. If Lexa responded, Clarke didn’t hear it. Instead Anya’s voice came out in a hushed tone, “She’s not necessary to the plan. We have everyone we need.”

“You don’t know that,” Lexa’s voice had lost some of its edge. 

“For fucks' sake, Lexa,” Anya said. "She's not Costia." 

A couple of seconds of dead silence passed to the point that Clarke thought the conversation had ended. _Who was Costia?_

“I know,” Lexa’s voice sounded stilted. That was a first. Another few minutes of silence passed, andClarke was starting to cramp from her awkward position of half crouched for a sprint. 

“I’m sorry. That was low of me.” Anya said. “It's just...this was your plan, and it was a good one even before she showed up. You relate to blondie or something. I get it, but we don’t even know if she’s trustworthy, let alone in control of herself.”

“She’s getting closer,” Lexa said, sending a tendril of happiness through Clarke. Lexa believed in her. Maybe Clarke had no idea what the two women were talking about, but Lexa thought Clarke was making progress. Clarke couldn’t suppress a dumb grin, especially after Lexa said, “I don’t recall you learning to control your powers in under a year.”

“I also don't recall being able to kill people with a single thought,” Anya growled, knocking the grin off Clarke’s face. “You are letting feelings cloud your judgment.” The sound of steps echoed in the class room, and they were getting closer to the door. Clarke backed away as fast and as quietly as she could. She could see a shadow growing larger as someone neared the door and Clarke wondered if she was far enough away to pretend she hadn’t been eavesdropping.

“Anya,” Lexa’s voice rang out from the classroom. The shadow stopped growing, and Clarke took the opportunity to hide around the corner. She couldn’t hear anything from her new position, but it was a sacrifice Clarke was willing to make to avoid running into Anya. 

A few minutes later, the bell rang, signifying the end of the day and the time the student body would normally make their way over to dinner. She heard a huff and saw Anya round the corner, but Clarke was ready. Her face was neutral and she offered a polite smile to the angry blonde. 

“Hey Anya,” Clarke said. 

“Hi,” Anya said without looking at Clarke and passing by before Clarke could say anything else. Ever since their encounter, Anya had been both distant and polite to her face. An awkward combination to watch, but more pleasant than before if Clarke was honest.

Clarke sighed in relief and turned the corner, walking right into Lexa. Clarke was careful to keep her hand in her pocket which meant she didn’t put her hands out to intercept Lexa and they ended up much closer than necessary, but neither made a move to remove herself.

“My bad,” Clarke said. “I forgot my g-”

“Glove,” Lexa said, pulling out Clarke’s missing short black leather glove from her jean pocket. Before she handed it over, Lexa studied the blonde, who began to sweat. Was it that obvious that Clarke had overheard them? 

After a moment, Lexa continued not skipping a beat, “My apologies. I was coming to return it to you.”

“Please don’t apologize, I’m the one that forgot the glove.”  _ And ran out on tutoring like a loser _ . 

“I hope you feel better, Clarke,” Lexa said, handing Clarke the glove. Clarke grabbed it with her gloved hand enjoying the brief weight of Lexa's hand against her own during the exchange. For a second she forgot that Lexa and Anya were keeping some kind of secret from her. That is, until Lexa cleared her throat. Clark looked down to find she hadn’t taken her glove back from Lexa. She felt her face flush and quickly pulled the glove out of Lexa’s grip and onto her hand. 

The movement was almost automatic by now. Putting on gloves felt like putting on a safety blanket. Clarke had almost come to enjoy the way it felt to have her hands covered. Not enough to stop tutoring, but almost. 

“What? Oh yeah. Thanks,” Clarke said slouching a little for emphasis that she was truly not feeling well. 

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you next time.” The brunette turned, making it a few steps before Clarke’s voice stopped her. 

“Lexa. Hey. Thank you for doing all this for me,” Clarke said, once Lexa had turned around. After a short debate in her head, Clarke added, “I hope you know this hasn’t been a waste of time for me.” 

Nothing changed on Lexa’s face. Clarke had thought using one of the words Anya used in their conversation would at least get Lexa’s poker face to give a little. If there were medals for best emotional masks, Lexa would win gold every time. It's not like Clarke hadn’t meant to ask Lexa about Anya’s original accusations, it just never felt like the right time. The more time they spent together, the more Clarke wanted to forget the whole thing had ever occurred. But now, it was feeling harder and harder not to shake the brunette and make her fess up. 

“Of course, Clarke. I enjoy our time together,” Lexa said before giving Clarke a small smile, turning around and walking away. Clarke’s mouth felt dry. Part of her still wanted to follow Lexa and shake the truth out of her, but the other part of her couldn’t get past Lexa’s admission.  _ She enjoys our time together? What does that mean? Enjoys it how? Because she knows she's using me? Because she might li... Nope. Friends enjoy time together. I am not going there. Dammit Lexa.  _

Once Lexa was safely out of view, Clarke let herself slump against the wall. She closed her eyes, letting the wall hold her up. Her legs were tired from the short sprint, her heart was hammering away, and she could feel a migraine coming on. _Why is everything so confusing?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hope that was worth some of the wait! Lmk what you think. All the kudos and comments coming in were a nice way to remind me that people were out here reading my attempts at romance and I don't want to disappoint!
> 
> Happy Coming Out Day!


	5. Forget-Me-Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is still learning the ropes of her mutant powers and maybe even has a break through, but is what she learns going to be worth it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... how come no one told me that Franko's was spelled with a K instead of a C??? Anyways, I was watching season 7 and the subtitle said Franko and I was like naw. But it was right. How did I miss it? I guess I couldn't see it. Get it, because C and see... right so I'm moving on. Not that anyone has asked, but I see Clarke as a more preppy x artsy style, while Lexa is a mix of dark academia and a little punk. On that note, I hope you enjoy what feels like a monster chapter.

It was week eight of tutoring and Lexa was standing in her usual spot outside math class waiting for Clarke. She was wearing black high waisted jeans, and a cropped dark blue and green striped shirt, along with her signature combat boots. Not that Clarke had noticed the brunette’s affinity for lace up boots or anything. She was too busy trying not to stare at the exposed skin of Lexa’s abdomen. 

“You know you don’t have to do that anymore,” Clarke said, shaking her head. “I haven’t bailed in weeks, and I know where I'm going.”

Lexa’s ears reddened, and Clarke had to blink to make sure she was not seeing things. Sure enough, Lexa’s particularly small ears were a little pinker than before.

“I understand," Lexa said, looking away. "I’ll meet you there next time.” She began walking towards the classroom.

“I didn’t say you needed to stop,” Clarke said before she could realize what she had just implied. Lexa stopped walking and half turned to face Clarke who found she had a lot more words to say. “I mean. You can wait if you want to. That is. I’m not saying you want to.” Clarke felt her face start to heat up. “Not that there would be anything wrong with you wanting to. I mean I want you to...if you wanted to…free will and all.” Clarke forced a chuckle, “Amur-kuh! Am I right?” _Jesus Christ what is wrong with me?_

Lexa must have taken pity on her because she smiled and said, “Thank you for the explanation, Clarke. If my schedule, and my will, continue to allow it, I'll meet you after math class.” 

“You’re welcome?” Clarke said lamely. When Lexa turned back around to lead the way to the classroom, Clarke face-palmed herself. You would think knowing that Lexa was using her for some secret plan would snap Clarke out of any feelings she had developed for the brunette, but no, it hadn’t. If anything, the mystery was making things worse and Clarke was a fool for enjoying any part of it. 

* * *

“Maybe we should take this literally,” Lexa said, going around to the back of the classroom and pulling out a tube of black paint and a paintbrush. “You like art, correct?”

Clarke nodded as she slowly began tugging her charcoal grey wool gloves off, wondering when she had told Lexa about her love of art. Finger by finger, the gloves came off. Her hands instantly balled into fists. Even after the last two months, they still felt naked. To top it off, the weather was getting colder and the classroom was chilly from disuse. 

Lexa squeezed a bit of paint onto a piece of scrap paper and dipped a paint brush into it. She lifted the paint brush and approached Clarke. Subconsciously, Clarke stepped back until she felt her butt bump into a desk behind her. 

“Do you want to learn control?” Lexa said, wielding the paintbrush like a knife. Her tone was all Commander. Sometimes she went there. To this place where her words were final and her actions resolute. It didn’t so much scare Clarke as it made her feel uneasy. What did Lexa have to go through to become this person? Leadership and discipline could come naturally to someone, but this was more than that. This was hard-wired.

“Are you going to make me?” Clarke said, gripping the desk behind her. Clarke didn’t respond well to authority and change. Lexa had an urgency about her today, moving faster, like she didn’t have the time. It didn’t happen often, but when Lexa got like this, Clarke would respond by snapping or getting defensive. Especially now that she had definitive proof Lexa was hiding something from her. She had replayed the words so many times, comparing them to her incident with Anya, losing faith in Lexa on a nightly basis. 

Lexa looked from Clarke to the paintbrush and back at Clarke, finally acknowledging Clarke’s body language. 

“No,” Lexa sighed, walking back to the table. After a moment, She painted her left palm, leaving her right palm bare. She laid the paint brush carefully on the table before snapping her fingers on both hands. Clarke almost jumped when Lexa’s right hand ignited. Instant blue to red flames erupt from Lexa’s unpainted skin. It reminded Clarke of a gas stove being turned on, without the incessant clicking sound. She had never seen Lexa use her powers. Clarke had even tried to ask Lexa to show them, as part of their tutoring, but the other girl had been reticent. The short moment she had used Lexa’s powers she had been too panicked to study them.

Despite the omni rumors, Lexa showed an amazing amount of self restraint compared to most of the students. There wasn’t a day that went by that Raven didn’t build something or Octavia splatter blood on something. 

The flames on Lexa’s palm never rose more than an inch, never wavered. This was what being In full control looked like, and Clarke was in awe. Lexa watched Clarke’s face, making sure she was paying attention, before turning to her hand and closing her fist, effectively snuffing the flames out. 

“Control is possible,” Lexa said, studying her now smoking fist.

Clarke opened her mouth to respond, but didn't know what to say. _Would it be a pun to say that was hot?_ Before Clarke could answer her own thought, Lexa’s left hand ignited. The smell of burnt paint immediately filled the room.

Clarke coughed, running to open a window. Lexa made a fist with her left hand, extinguishing the flames. The blackened remains of the paint stained her palm. Clarke returned, covering her face with one arm and using a notebook to wave the smoke away from the sprinkler system with the other.

“You know you can get high off of that right?” Clarke coughed again.

“Do you know this from experience?”

_Yes._ “Maybe.”

Seemingly unconcerned with Clarke’s history as a paint huffer, Lexa wiped the remains of the paint off her hand on a towel. “Think about the paint as a barrier. The goal is to be able to touch things without your powers taking over, with or without paint.” 

“So we’re done with plants?”

“We are still using plants, but trying something new,” Lexa said.

“Monty will be relieved.” This earned Clarke a half smirk from Lexa. 

“Here,” Lexa motioned for Clarke’s left hand until Clarke placed it in front of her, palm side up. She dipped the paint brush again saturating it before running the cool paint on Clarke skin. She started at the base of Clarke’s wrist moving up and down with solid strokes until Clarke’s whole palm was covered in black paint. Then she started on Clarke’s fingers. Each stroke tickled Clarke, but she restrained herself from laughing. It wasn’t just the sensation, the act was more intimate than Clarke imagined. Lexa made each stroke with precision but also with care. Clarke pondered why she had never tried body painting before. 

“Let it dry,” Lexa blew warm air on the paint, sending goosebumps up Clarke’s arm. It was the closest she had been to being touched in a while. Painting had always been an escape for Clarke, but after this experience, she was going to have a hard time picking up a brush without dirty thoughts.

Satisfied that the paint was dry, Lexa grabbed two hand sized air plants, also something new, and placed them in front of Clarke. 

“Take both plants, one in each hand, at the same time. Focus on the difference between your painted hand and paint-free one. Use what you’ve learned so far.”

Clarke looked between her hands. Other than the tight feeling of the paint setting on her left hand, there was no discernible difference. _Here goes nothing._

Just as Clarke was about to pick up the plants, Lexa’s phone chirped. Or at least Clarke assumed it was Lexa’s phone, she’d never heard it ring before. 

Lexa’s brows furrowed for a second as she dug her phone out of her school messenger bag. Finding it, Lexa quickly read whatever message she had received. The furrow grew deeper. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Yes. I...apologize. I have to cut today short. I’m needed in the library for an event,” Lexa said, putting her phone back into her bag. “Practice and record your progress on your own. We can discuss it next time.”

Clarke nodded, watching Lexa leave without so much as a goodbye. _That was odd._

* * *

The next two weeks were total failures. At this point, Monty had taken to making 10 plants a week because Clarke was killing about four a session and a couple on her own time. It didn’t help that Lexa was now only able to attend one session a week due to some library thing every Thursday night she refused to talk about. She hadn’t pressed the issue, and practicing without Lexa was not the same. She couldn’t ask the busy brunette to quit whatever it was that was keeping her. If anything, Clarke should have been making more progress on her own by now.

Today’s session was going just as well. Clarke was about to touch plant number three, when she threw up her hands in frustration.

“It’s never going to happen, Lexa,” Clarke pushed away from the desk. 

“Clarke,” Lexa said, standing up to walk around the desk, closer to Clarke. 

“I’m tired of watching all the plants die,” Clarke ran her fingers through her hair. “And I think Monty is starting to get power fatigue.” Indeed, the plants Clarke was now draining were much smaller than those she had started with. 

Lexa nodded, “If you need to take a break we ca-”

“No. Don’t you get it? We’ve been at this for weeks, months, with paint, without paint, with meditation, with special breathing techniques, mantras and distractions. Nothing has worked!”

“You’ve done it before, Clarke, and you can do it again. Powers are like emotions, they come and go, but it's crucial to learn to control them to function in society.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Clarke grumbled.

“I never said any such thing.”

“Of course not, Commander,” Clarke mumbled.

“What did you call me?” Lexa looked intrigued.

“Commander, it's what everyone calls you.” Clarke didn’t care to hide the disdain. Perfect commander and her perfect power control.

“Why is that?”

“They…” If Clarke was paying attention, she would have realized she was stepping into a trap. “Everyone thinks you’re an omni."

Lexa smiled, throwing Clarke off. 

“Say I was, would that change the fact that you need to learn control?”

“No...but...”

“Does it change the fact that you might not always be protected here at Franko’s?”

“What? That’s not...”

“Then it's not relevant to your tutoring.”

“I… no…” Clarke almost whined. She was tired. She was tired of the mind games and the practices that always seemed to end in the same spot, failure. There was one thing she hadn’t tried, now that they were on the topic of Lexa. “How do you do it then? Control it?”

Lexa’s shoulders stiffened for a moment before relaxing into what Clarke called Lexa’s ‘at ease’ stance. It happened every time she’d tried to learn more about Lexa during their sessions. 

“I had no choice,” Lexa said, surprising Clarke. “My choices were learn control or burn everything I touched. I discovered quickly that my powers, like most, are tied to my emotions…” Lexa turned past Clarke, avoiding eye contact, “So I learned how to control my feelings and my powers came with it.”

“Why haven’t we tried that?” Clarke said, throwing up her arms. 

“We have, in subtle ways,” Lexa said, turning back to Clarke. “But I am starting to understand that nothing can be subtle with you.”

_What is that supposed to mean?_ Clarke sighed, “Okay, what did you do?”

“I stopped,” Lexa said straight faced. 

“Stopped?” Clarke raised an eyebrow waiting for more elaboration. 

“Feeling,” Lexa said, almost shrugging. 

“You can’t just stop feeling! You’re not a robot!” Clarke said, throwing her hands up. “I can’t stop feeling.” _No matter how hard I try._

“Which is why I haven’t broached the topic,” Lexa said, walking back around the table to sit down and fiddle with her knife.

“Great,” Clarke said, placing her forehead directly on the table. Maybe if she stayed there long enough she’d become one with the table and live out the rest of her life as unassuming furniture waiting for students to place half chewed gum on her. 

“How did you get roped into this tutoring thing anyways?” Clarke opted to put her chin on the table instead, that way she could look at Lexa and continue her newly chosen career as a desk. She waited for the usual deflection.

“Before…” Lexa cleared her throat. “Before coming to Franko’s, I helped other mutants learn to control their powers. It seemed appropriate to continue that here, with you, after our incident.” Lexa said, looking away. 

Clarke hummed an acknowledgement, trying not to show her surprise at Lexa’s sudden openness. Lexa hadn’t talked about the ‘incident’ since their first week. There were so many other questions rolling around her head, but she didn’t have the energy to ask them. 

As if sensing Clarke was on the verge of quitting for the day, Lexa added, “Victory stands on the back of sacrifice, Clarke.”

Clarke raised her head, “What?” She rubbed her chin where it had gotten stuck to the desk from raising her head too fast. _Why was that sticky? When was the last time these things were cleaned?_

For once, Lexa seemed at a loss for a ready response. She walked behind the teacher’s desk and picked something off the ground, placing it on the desk. “Here. Monty made this special for today.” Lexa pushed a miniature red rose bush towards Clarke. 

Clarke hadn’t noticed it before since it had been behind the desk on the floor. It was barely taller than her forearm. Lexa’s weird statement forgotten for the moment, Clarke studied the delicate bush.

“Today?” Clarke couldn’t remember anything special happening that day. 

“It's your four month anniversary at Franko’s.” 

_Four months? It feels like a lifetime._ “Happy anniversary to me,” Clarke muttered. Trying to play along, Clarke lightened her tone, “What did you get me?”

Lexa blinked, looking from Clarke to the rose bush and back, “Oh. Was I… is it customary to...” Lexa looked back at Clarke, finding a shit-eating grin on the blonde’s face. “You were joking.”

“I mean, I’d never say no to a gift.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lexa cleared her throat. “Back to the lesson.” 

Taking a deep breath, Clarke wiped the grin off of her face and positioned her hands as close to the little rose stems, thorns and leaves as she could without touching them. Clarke closed her eyes as her fingertips made contact with the tips of leaves. She didn’t want to see the damage. She tried to clear her mind. It worked for a moment, until she imagined Raven making a lewd comment about touching Lexa’s rose bush. Then Clarke would argue it was really Monty’s rose bush. To which Raven would smack her and say something snarky about bisexuals and Harper better watch out. Clarke exhaled, pushing that thought from her mind. The plant still felt whole and no energy had swept through her. _So far so good. This is good._

_Good. Good like online glove shopping with Emori, or arguing about Van Gogh's sanity with Maya. Good like cheering on Bellamy as he loses an arm wrestling match to Lincoln, again, or watching Monty grow a peach tree. Good like, Lexa waiting for me after class, like sneaking glances at her as the sun sets, like knowing that Lexa wants to be there with me..._

“Clarke, open your eyes,” Lexa whispered. “It's been five minutes.” Clarke opened her eyes to find one of the most mundane but beautiful things she’s ever seen, a living plant. No warmth was seeping into her, no flower petals were shriveling and falling. The stem wasn’t turning brown to black. Clarke choked back a sob, letting herself close her hands around one rose’s stem and thorns. Not hard enough for the thorns to pierce her, but enough to let Clarke know this wasn’t a dream. 

Tearing her eyes away from the rose, Clarke looked to Lexa. An unbridled smile, the likes of which Clarke had never seen, graced Lexa's features. 

“Clarke, you’re doing it,” Maybe it was the light, but Lexa’s eyes gleamed. Clarke had never seen Lexa look at her, at anyone or anything, that way. 

At that moment, the rose was forgotten and Clarke changed her mind, Lexa’s beaming smile was the most beautiful thing she'd seen that day, maybe ever.

Her hands felt cold, breaking the temporary stupor Clarke was under. She looked down to the plant, which was now moving in Clarke’s grip, scratching her in the process. Clarke pulled back, looking at the plant for the first signs of death. Signs that she’d yet again failed to control her emotions and by default her power. But the plant wasn’t dying, quite the opposite. 

It was growing, a little bud here and leaf there, getting about an inch taller. 

“Clarke...” Lexa pulled the pot closer to herself, touching one of the new leaves. “Becca said you were an absorber, correct?”

“Yeah,” Clarke said, looking dumbfounded at the rose plant.

“How do you feel?” Lexa asked, looking from the plant to Clarke, her smile replaced by a serious stare. 

“What?” Clarke said, still reeling from the new event. 

“Physically?” Lexa looked up. 

Clarke took a moment to mentally check herself. She felt sweaty like she had done a short lacrosse warmup. She also felt a little tired, but that wasn’t necessarily anything new. She had a small scratch on her palm from a thorn, but it hadn’t drawn blood.

“I’m okay.”

Lexa continued to scrutinize her with her eyes. It was a little intimidating.

Clarke shrugged, “A little tired, maybe?”

“Come with me,” Lexa said, grabbing Clarke by the elbow and pulling. Before Clarke could come to terms with the fact that Lexa was touching her—over her sleeve of course—they were standing in front of Lexa’s room, or what Clarke assumed was Lexa’s room. She hadn’t exactly made it the first time around. Lexa opened the door and began digging something out from under her bed. Clarke took a few tentative steps into the room and glanced around the room. It was devoid of real decorations other than a few too many candles, some school books, and smattering of vanity items on her side. Anya’s side was similarly unadorned save for some face creams, makeup brushes, a bag of skittles and a suspiciously familiar looking old fashion radio. Clarke made a note to tease Raven when she got the chance. She would have to admit she had been in Lexa’s room, but it would be worth it. 

Lexa pulled out a worn book of world maps, holding it close to her chest before quickly flipping to the page she was looking for. With a nod, Lexa beckoned Clarke over to her side. Clarke watched as Lexa used the tips of her fingers to lift a dried five-petal baby blue flower from the book’s pages. 

“That’s pretty,” Clarke wasn’t following the show and tell.

“It’s a forget-me-not,” Lexa said. “Hold out your hand.” 

“But it’s dead.” 

“Please, Clarke.” 

The word sounded small, like Lexa hasn’t used it in awhile and forgot what it sounded like. _How can I say no to that?_ Clarke exhaled, bringing her uncovered left hand, palm up, as close as she dared to Lexa’s. She’d only managed to get one glove on during their mad dash to Lexa’s room. Lexa gingerly placed the flower in Clarke’s palm, avoiding any contact. 

At first, like Clarke assumed, nothing happened. Both girls stared at Clarke’s palm for who knows what. The little flower barely weighed anything, and Clarke tried to hold her breath, fearing the flower would disintegrate at the lightest touch. 

A few more quiet minutes passed until Lexa’s soft sigh broke the silence. Clarke looked up to find Lexa’s face had fallen by a margin. 

“I’m sorry, Lexa. I’m not sure what was supposed to happen. Maybe if you tell me?”

“It’s… fine.” Lexa said, sitting on her bed. She patted the space next to her and Clarke sat down. 

“You... might be more than just an absorber. You might be a creator or a manipulator, but it’s hard to tell with an already living thing.”

“What do you mean?” Clarke shook her head. She knew powers could change and grow, but she didn’t expect it to happen to her. Nor did she want it to. 

“You might be manipulating the energy in the plant or you might be creating energy and pushing it into the plant.” 

“Oh.” Clarke wasn’t sure this news was a good thing. She might be able to do more with her powers? She was barely getting the hang of what she already had. Lexa seemed lost in her own thoughts, staring off into the distance.

“Well,” Clarke broke the silence. “I didn’t do much for this flower. Maybe I’m a manipulator?”

“Maybe…” Lexa nodded but her eyes didn’t meet Clarke’s. 

Clarke picked up the flower stem with her gloved hand and offered it back to Lexa. The little pressed forget-me-not no different than it was before. Lexa tenderly plucked the flower from Clarke’s hand and placed it back into the groove it had created in the book. Lexa traced the outline with her finger before closing the book.

Clarke sat there for a minute waiting for Lexa to say or do something. 

“My grandmother had a patch of forget-me-nots in her garden. Every spring, my grandmother would pick the best ones and put them in my hair. She’d laugh, and say that I was the best part of her garden.” Lexa shook her head and looked down at her boots. A sad smile betraying the happiness of her memory. 

“When I was 8, I accidentally burnt down the bush...and her house… and…” Lexa clenched the book with her fingers, creating little dents where her nails bit into the old leather. 

Clarke stared in shock and wished she could give Lexa a reassuring touch. To let her know that she wasn’t alone in this. No wonder Lexa had volunteered to help her. But the idea of touching Lexa, with gloves on or off, terrified Clarke. Her gloves, her literal safety blanket, were also a reminder of what she was capable of. Clarke wondered if the feeling would ever go away. 

She settled for sliding off the bed and crouching down in front of Lexa until Lexa had no choice but to look Clarke in the eyes. 

“I…” Clarke swallowed back the fear. She hadn’t told anyone what she did, even if people could guess and obviously Lexa knew something. The details were hers to keep, until now.

“My powers activated when I was with my boyfriend, Finn. I didn’t know what was happening and neither did he. I couldn’t control it, and it haunts me everyday.” She forced herself to keep eye contact. If Lexa was going to open up, so could she. It felt good to admit it out loud. Becca and professor Kane had suggested Clarke attend therapy, but Clarke hadn’t been ready. 

It wouldn’t Finn back, but maybe talking about could help Lexa. 

“It gets easier, unfortunately,” Lexa gave Clarke a sad knowing smile. This time, Clarke broke eye contact and looked down at her shoes, black high top converse shoes, the tips of which were almost touching Lexa’s signature black combat boots.

“Yeah,” Clarke whispered. It was true. The pain she felt over Finn never changed, but the more time passed, the more she found she could push it aside. Not forget it or cover it up, as much as she wished for that sometimes. It felt more like a nightmare she had had or a story someone told her. It got easier to think of other things, but it never went away. 

They sat like that for another beat of silence, kind of looking at nothing, each lost in her own regrets.

“When I first got my powers…” Lexa started at a whisper. “I melted or burnt everything I touched. I tried to wear rubber gloves, gardening gloves, even aluminum foil, but they all melted or crumbled away eventually. I finally figured out oven mitts would be the most durable, inside out of course. You’re lucky you can wear regular clothing.”

Clarke stifled a giggle at the thought of Lexa running around with oversized inside out oven mitts. Shaking her head, Clarke looked up to meet Lexa’s piercing green eyes. Lexa’s cheeks were pinker than before. 

“Oven mitts. Why didn’t I think of that?” Clarke shared a grin with Lexa.

Lexa stood up and offered Clarke her hand. When Clarke hesitated, Lexa wrapped her hand around Clarke’s covered left forearm and pulled her to her feet. There wasn’t much space in between them to begin with, so upon rising, Clarke found herself chest to chest with Lexa. The taller woman's grip never lessened. Lexa looked from Clarke’s eyes to Clarke’s lips before quickly coming back to Clarke’s eyes. 

Clarke felt her throat dry up as she tried to swallow. _Had Lexa always smelled like lavender and honey?_ Clarke caught the lingering scent of burnt acrylic paint as well, making her lightheaded. Or at least that’s what she was going to blame later for her lightheadedness. 

_Dammit her lips look good._ It took Clarke a moment to notice the pressure on her arm was still there. Whether consciously or subconsciously, Clarke noticed that Lexa had started drawing lazy circles with her thumb where it met Clarke’s arm. The sensation was soothing and exhilarating at the same time.

Unable to help herself, Clarke slowly brought her gloved hand to Lexa’s face, pushing a stray strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. Lexa tilted her head a little into the touch. Clarke held her breath as she cupped Lexa's face, gently tracing the lines of Lexa’s cheek bone down her face until her thumb found its way to the edge of Lexa's lip. 

It was tempting. Oh so tempting. Everything inside her wanted to touch Lexa in that moment, to rip her glove off, to finally know if Lexa’s skin was as soft as it looked. Clarke bit her lip, drawing Lexa’s attention back down to it. 

“Clarke…” Lexa’s voice was reduced to a shaky exhale. Clarke felt the flutter Lexa’s breath on her lips, sending goosebumps racing along Clarke’s skin. Clarke brushed her thumb across Lexa’s bottom lip, watching with satisfaction when Lexa’s mouth opened a fraction from her touch. 

Lexa’s grip on Clarke’s arm had changed from soft to unbreakable. Not that Clarke was trying to go anywhere. It was like Lexa thought Clarke would float away if given the chance. Lexa’s other hand snaked around Clarke’s waist, pulling her further into her, as much as clothing would allow. 

Clarke released a soft gasp as Lexa’s thigh promised to close the gap between Clarke’s legs. She hadn’t been expecting Lexa to do anything like this, but she couldn’t lie and said she hadn’t dreamt of it. Her heartbeat moved from her chest to her stomach and any coherent thoughts, telling her _this is trouble, pull away, too close, too close_ , didn’t seem to be connecting. 

_Why was it trouble again?_ Clarke let her eyes trail from Lexa’s lips, to her chiseled jaw, down the slope of her neck. She couldn’t help a peek lower at Lexa’s cleavage. How dare Lexa wear a low cut olive colored shirt. It's like she planned this. It was an enjoyable view until her eyes landed on her own exposed hand. It hovered in an awkwardly held position between their chests, and Clark was able to snap out of her reverie. _I’m the trouble._

“Lexa… I,” Clarke looked back up at Lexa’s face. _Bad idea_ . She found a sea of emeralds watching her, waiting for her to make the next move. _What could a person like me do that wouldn’t hurt you? That wouldn’t hurt me? Are you going to hurt me?_

A rush of anger flooded Clarke’s already overwhelmed senses. Anger at herself for not having control over her emotions, the situation and her powers. She had no control over anything. All she wanted in that moment was to kiss a beautiful woman without killing her. _Was that too much to ask, really?_

“We can’t.” She tried to pull back from their intertwined position, but Lexa was stronger than she looked.

“Clarke,” Lexa whispered. It felt like static electricity, running up her spine. Her lips were a hair breadth away. All it would take was a slip, a tilt, for Clarke’s lips to meet Lexa’s. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” Lexa said, never making a move forward. Lexa may have been the one holding Clarke close, but she was letting Clarke make the final decision. 

Tears began to well up, blurring Clarke’s vision. She struggled to release herself from Lexa’s grip, pulling her face as far back as she could from Lexa’s. 

“Well, I am,” Clarke felt a hot tear slip down her face. She wasn't entirely sure she was only referring to herself. Using her gloved hand, Clarke found Lexa’s hand at her waist and tugged until she felt Lexa let go. Slowly they unraveled until the only thing connecting them was Lexa’s hand on Clarke’s forearm. 

“Clarke, it’s okay to be afraid. But we cannot let fear dictate our lives,” Lexa said, finally releasing her. “We have to be more, for ourselves and our people. We have to trust each other.”

When Clarke didn’t respond, Lexa added, “Clarke, I trus-”

Clarke covered Lexa’s mouth with her gloved hand, stopping the brunette from finishing her sentence. She didn’t want to hear it. How could Lexa go on about trust when they both knew Lexa was hiding something from her. When it had been months and Lexa had yet to admit anything. Yet to be truly honest with her. 

But rational thought had long since left the room, and something possessed Clarke to close her eyes and kiss the back of her hand covering Lexa’s mouth. It was the closest she was going to get to kissing Lexa. She felt Lexa expel a burst of warm air through her glove. Like Lexa had just realized she and Clarke were in a pseudo-kiss, but Clarke didn’t dare open her eyes to know whether Lexa understood her inane gesture.

“I’m can't,” Clarke whispered against her glove, trying to keep her voice from cracking. She opened her eyes, keeping her view towards her feet, and, not trusting herself anymore in such close proximity to Lexa, took a step back. Clarke removed her hand and retrieved her other glove out of her jean pocket and hastily put it on, getting her pinky and ring finger stuck in one finger sheath before getting it on right. She hadn't done that in weeks.

Her heart beat furiously in her chest, trying to find its way back to Lexa’s. She wrapped her arms around herself, hoping that it would keep her heart in its cage. 

“I understand,” Lexa cleared her throat. Whatever magic that had been cast upon them fading. With the precision of a soldier, Lexa let her hands clasp behind her back. The glitter in her eyes was gone. “I apologize for my behavior.”

If Clarke wasn’t still recuperating from their almost kiss, she would have thanked Lexa for finally apologizing. She just wasn’t sure exactly what behavior Lexa was apologizing for. 

Clarke blindly wiped at her face, “I have to go.”

Lexa nodded, watching as Clarke walked out the door.

* * *

“How’d your one-on-one tutoring with the Commander go today?” Raven said, poking Clarke in the rib after finding her slumped over her desk later that evening.

“Stop calling her that,” Clarke smacked Raven’s hand away. 

“Ooh. Someone’s touchy today,” Raven said, wiggling her fingers in front of Clarke’s face. 

“I am the least touchy person ever,” Clarke said, emphasizing her point by waving her gloved hands. Clarke barely restrained the urge to groan in frustration. 

Raven must have caught wind of it somehow because she asked, “How is it being a teenage bubble girl?” Raven was the only person who could tease Clarke about her powers and get away with it. 

“I don’t know,” Clarke said, finally giving Raven her attention. “How is it knowing your real power is annoying anyone in a 20 foot radius?”

“Ouch. You know my real power is seducing everyone in a hundred foot radius. You just seem impervious to my charms.”

“One of my nascent gifts,” Clarke said, rolling her eyes. 

“You sounded just like Kane! You’ll make a mutant yet, Griffin!”

Clarke proceeded to throw multiple crumpled paper balls at Raven. 

“Where are you getting these?” Raven laughed, jumping on her bed and shielding herself with a pillow.

Truth be told, Clarke’s ammo, an obscenely large stack of balled up paper, came from Clarke drawing to get her aggression out. Every time she looked down, it was a half sketch of Lexa’s face, or her knife, or a plant. Confused and frustrated, Clarke had been crumbling up each sketch and throwing it in her trash bin. 

“Let’s see your powers help you now, asshole!” 

“It's Rocket Girl! Bubble brat princess!” Raven made a grab for the paper balls that had landed on her bed to throw back at Clarke. 

Running low on ammo, Clarke dumped the now empty trash bin on Raven’s head, patting it with a thump. “Here’s a helmet for your space mission.”

“Just you wait,” Raven said, removing the bin and fixing her pony-tail. “They’re gonna write books about me.” She plucked at a paper ball in her lap and started unfolding it. 

“Don’t,” Clarke said, snatching the paper away. It took less than a second for a mischievous grin to find itself on Raven’s face. 

“Oh ho ho…” Raven said, “What are you hiding, Griffin?”

“Nothing!” Clarke dove to recover as many of the paper balls as she could. _This was a bad idea._

“Nothing, my ass,” Raven cackled as she shoved Clarke away and grabbed a ball just outside of Clarke’s reach. With a loud crinkle, Raven unfolded the ball and started rotating the paper looking for the right angle. “It’s...a rose.” Raven looked up to Clarke for an explanation.

“It’s private,” Clarke said, holding out her hand.

“Dang, Griffin,” Raven said, tossing the paper back at Clarke. “Even your secrets are boring.”

“Yeah...I know.” Clarke forced a laugh, placing the remaining paper balls back into the bin. “I’ll go burn these before you get any more ideas.”

“No need. I’m not interested in your erotic flower drawings,” Raven said, getting into a crossed legged sitting position and grabbing her laptop. She waived Clarke off without looking. The click of the door let Raven know she was alone. She waited a moment before lifting her leg to reveal a lone paper ball. She picked it up and unfolded it. 

“Oh, Griffin,” Raven smiled at the half finished profile of Lexa that greeted her on paper. “Your secrets aren’t boring, just predictable. What are we going to do with you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was fun wasn't it? Watching season 7 made me remember why I loved Raven so much. She's the genius best friend trope, but she has attitude and a strong moral compass. Obviously canon Raven and my Raven are incredibly different, but I have the most fun writing her. Back to the fic! I think this story is chugging along! Lmk what you think. Thank you for all the kudos and reviews! I'm super excited about this story.
> 
> Sidenote: if anyone is watching season 7, please don't spoil it. I know we get a bone or something at the end, but I want to see it for myself. Thanks.


	6. Circles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is still trying to figure out where she stands with Lexa. Raven decides to help in the only way she knows how, and Clarke learns more than she was ready to know. 
> 
> Circles by Post Malone lyrics:
> 
> Maybe you don't understand what I'm going through  
> It's only me, what you got to lose?  
> Make up your mind, tell me, what are you gonna do?  
> It's only me, let it go...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm having writer's block in the later chapters, so I wanted to space these middle chapters out. Buuuut I didn't want to leave you forever. Please enjoy the next chapter in my little x-men saga.

When Clarke left math class on Tuesday, she was disappointed to find an empty hallway. It was odd for Lexa to be late, let alone missing without telling Clarke. She was punctual to a ‘T’. Clarke waited for a few minutes just in case Lexa was running late. She had been preparing herself all morning to talk to Lexa after their encounter in her room last week. The weekend felt like forever, and Lexa’s absence was making Clarke’s anxiety worse.

Was Lexa mad at her? _I can’t believe I kissed her… or...well my hand… ugh. I’m an idiot._ It had taken everything in Clarke not to call in sick and stay in her room that day, and Lexa was _the one_ that bailed? A few more minutes passed. _Did Lexa quit because of what happened?_ A million theories began to run through her head. 

Huffing loudly for dramatic effect, Clarke gave up on waiting and walked the short distance to Classroom B. Sometimes Lexa would be there waiting for Clarke if Clarke was running late, but it was sadly also empty. Clarke didn’t like this at all. _Is Lexa ok?_ She was about to run out of the classroom and go to Lexa’s room to check on her when something on the teacher’s desk caught her eye. Clarke walked to the desk and picked up the stray item, an old book. After a second recognition clicked, it was Lexa’s old book of maps from her room. There was a note attached, 

**_Clarke,_ **

**_I cannot make today’s tutoring session, but I trust you will practice on your own. I hope this book serves as inspiration._ **

**_Sincerely,_ **

**_Lexa_ **

Clark chuckled. Even in a post-it note Lexa managed to sound formal. 

Clarke was surprised to see the book. From the way Lexa had been holding it, it seemed like something precious to her. The flower in it certainly was. Supporting the book’s spine, Clarke gently opened it to the pressed flower. Too scared to touch the flower for fear of it disintegrating, Clarke closed the book. She peeled back the hard cover, uncovering the first blank page before the contents of the book began, and found an inscription. 

**_To L,_ **

**_For when we see the world together._ **

**_Love,_ **

**_C_ **

Clarke felt odd reading what she could only interpret as a very personal inscription to Lexa. She closed the book with a snap, worried she’d find more than she already didn’t want to know. _Like why would Lexa give me something so private? Was this a test?_ _And who was C?_ Clarke ran through the names of the Woods kids she knew. None of them started with C, so it couldn’t be them. Someone else, close to Lexa. _Or who used to be close to Lexa. Before Franko’s?_

The other day, Anya had mentioned a name that started with C... or a K name, but for the life of her, Clarke could not remember. Sighing, Clarke opened her book bag and reverently slid the book in between her math book and notebook to keep it from traveling. Finding she wasn’t in the mood to kill plants that afternoon, Clarke ditched classroom B and headed to her room. 

* * *

“No tutoring today, Griff?” Raven greeted Clarke before turning back to her latest science experiment, a universal-universal remote control. It looked like a regular universal remote control to the naked eye. 

“Nope,” Clarke said, laying her book bag down on her desk. She removed her caramel colored leather gloves and placed them on top of each other next to her bag before pulling out Lexa’s book and laying herself down in her bed with it. “How’s the remote going? Did you figure out the light switch?”

“So, I can turn on and off any light west of the cafeteria,” Raven said, scratching her head with the tip of a screw driver, “but the administrator offices on the east side continue to elude me.”

“Dare I ask why you would even need to turn off the lights over there?” Clarke said, rolling over to face Raven.

“A blackout during an exam is only convincing if every light goes out.”

“Or you know, you could cut the circuit breaker.”

“One, duh. That’s easy. Two, it's obvious. Three, there’s no imagination in that at all.” Raven patted her remote, “This puppy is sophisticated. A piece of art really. Could take weeks before they figure out that it's me.” 

Clarke scoffed loudly for Raven’s benefit. Everyone knew if any mishaps occurred, even remotely technical in nature, it was immediately blamed on Raven. Sensing Clarke’s disbelief, Raven said, “Okay. Maybe a week, but that’s long enough to get me out of a physics exam.”

“For a tech wiz, you sure hate tests.”

“For the record, I love science. I just detest tests,” Raven reached for a small set of tweezers on her desk. “They don’t measure anything real, just how well you can take a test.”

“That’s true,” Clarke said, letting her fingers absently run over the embossed title on the book cover.

“What happened to tutoring?” Raven was never good at dropping things, even when Clarke wanted her to.

“Lexa couldn’t make it,” Clarke shrugged, hoping Raven would take the hint and move on.

“Think she’s at the Woods’ therapy?”

Clarke thought about it. Their group therapy, as Lincoln called it—Clarke hadn’t wanted to pry and ask Lexa directly about it—was on Thursdays.

“Today is Tuesday.”

“I may have overheard Anya talking about having an extra session tonight.”

“Oh,” Clarke frowned. Would it have killed Lexa to give Clarke a heads up after their last encounter so Clarke wouldn’t blame herself all afternoon?

“And I may have also overheard when and where it was taking place.” 

“Oh?” Clarke chanced a look at Raven. The brunette had a maniacal look on her face. “Raven…” Remote forgotten, the girl in question began digging into one of her spare part bins until she fished out two red solo cups. 

“Come on!” Raven tossed the cups into a drawstring bag and headed towards the door, stopping only when she realized Clarke hadn’t left her bed.

“No,” Clarke crossed her arms, rolling away from Raven’s view. Clarke stared resolutely at the wall. She wasn’t going to be goaded into spying. _What are we? 13?_

“Griffin, aren’t you curious?”

“No,” Clarke scowled at the way her response sounded more like a question. Not hearing Raven or the door, Clarke turned back around to face her. Raven glanced from Clarke to Clarke’s desk and then back at Clarke.

“Raven… whatever you’re thinking…” Clarke sat up, glaring a warning at Raven.

“Wouldn’t it be odd,” Raven said, taking a step towards Clarke’s desk as Clarke spun her feet to the ground. The distance between them was three feet. Easily jumpable. 

“Raven, I swear if you…” Clarke stood up fully prepared to lunge gloveless at Raven. It was her funeral.

“...if one of these,” In a blink, Raven grabbed one of Clarke’s gloves, “were to show up outside of the Woods’ therapy room?!” Raven screamed the last part as she charged out of the room, with Clarke’s glove tight in her grip.

“REYES!!” Clarke roared, grabbing her glove and beginning her pursuit.

* * *

Turns out Raven couldn’t outrun Clarke but she did shake her enough times to get them to their destination, the library.

“Give me my glove!” Clarke growled. 

“Shut up!” Raven hissed. “Do you want them to hear us?” She pointed to the library double doors ahead of them. 

“Shit,” Clarke hissed, crouching down and pressing herself against the wall near the door. Raven did the same, offering the glove back. Clarke angrily snatched her glove away, slipping her left hand inside of it. A small amount of relief filled her at the sensation of both hands being covered. “You are so dead, Raven.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank me later.” Raven retrieved the solo cups from her bag and tried to hand one to Clarke, who pushed Raven’s hand away.

“This is no time for drinking.” The list of things Clarke would do to get revenge on Raven grew by the second.

“It's not for that,” Raven said, tipping the cup so Clarke could peer inside. A series of wires and other circuitry filled the bottom of the cup. Tipping the cup back to herself, Raven flipped a switch in the cup and gave it to Clarke. Raven scooted over to one of the double doors. “Put it like this.” Raven placed the mouth of her cup on the wooden door and leaned into it until her ear was at the bottom of the cup. 

“This is wrong, Raven,” Clarke said, even as she shuffled to a door and mimicked Raven. At first, Clarke could only hear muffled noise, but it slowly began to clear up until Clarke could hear Lincoln’s dulcet tone like she was next to him.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you doubting my sources?” Anya did not sound happy. Lincoln didn’t respond, but Lexa did.

“I believe Anya’s sources. Luna sent them. It’s what we’ve been waiting for.”

Clarke furrowed her brow and whispered to Raven, "Who is Luna?"

Raven shrugged. 

Another female voice came through, “We are with you, Commander.”

“You don’t have to call me that, Tris.”

“I know.”

“Okay,” Lexa sighed. “Let’s go over the plan again.”

“There’s something I’d like to bring to the group’s attention first.”

“Yes, Anya?” Lexa sounded tired.

“We have a spy in our midst.” 

Clarke glared at Raven. “What the fuck, Raven,” Clarke whispered. Raven waved her away, seemingly unperturbed that Anya may have learned of their existence. 

“We’ve gone over this before, Anya,” Lexa said. “Need I remind you of the incident with Clarke?” 

“But one of the new student’s has to be working for her,” Anya said. “The timing is too suspicious.” Raven mouthed a ‘what’ to Clarke who only shook her head. There would be time to explain Anya’s conspiracy theory later.

Tris’ voice came out as a squeak, “We haven’t found any evidence.”

“Octavia hasn’t heard anything either,” Lincoln added. 

“I still don’t condone you fraternizing with her,” Anya huffed. 

“Good thing I don’t need your approval,” Lincoln said calmly. Clarke couldn’t help but smile hearing Lincoln standing up for himself to Anya. 

A male voice added, “Banging her doesn’t make her one of us.”

The harsh sound of chair legs scraping on linoleum made Clarke wince and pull away from the cup for a moment. The solo cups made every sound sharper, harsher than necessary.

“Tristan, Lincoln, stop. Now,” Lexa's voice was all Commander. A beat of silence passed. Clarke raised an eyebrow at Raven who shook her head. This was like no therapy Clarke had ever heard of.

“It’s getting late. Let’s review and head to bed.” The boys grunted their agreement. 

“Wait.” Anya’s voice sounded haughty. Never a good sign with Anya. 

“Anya…”

“It’ll be worth it,” Anya said, and before Clarke could cock her head at Raven in confusion, she felt an unnatural pressure grab her by the shoulders, haul her against and through the doors, into the air, and onto the library floor. It felt like she had been jerked hard on a rollercoaster ride, one she hadn’t wanted to be on. Her shoulder stung where it had smashed through the door and broken her fall. She was going to have fun counting bruises in the morning. 

When she looked up, she and Raven were sprawled on the floor in front of a circle of chairs filled with Woods kids. 

“Reyes,” Anya smiled wickedly. 

“Don’t look that happy to see me, Woods.” Raven rubbed the shoulder she had landed on. “I could report you for use of power outside…” Raven caught sight of Anya holding the remains of her solo cup listening device. “Or we could all forget this ever happened.”

“Clarke, what are you doing here?” Clarke winced at the disappointment in Lexa’s voice. She looked up to find Lexa’s green eyes boring into her. Clarke swallowed. She hadn’t thought about what would happen if they were caught. She hadn’t really been thinking at all.

“I...I could ask you the same thing,” Clarke said, forcing herself up into a sitting position. 

“So ask,” Lexa said, crossing her arms. 

“What are you doing here?” _Detective Clarke at your service._

“Group therapy. You?”

Clarke didn’t have a good answer. It's not like she could say that her roommate practically blackmailed her into coming.

“It didn’t sound like therapy,” Raven muttered.

“That’s it,” Anya said, grabbing the empty air in front of her. Immediately, Raven levitated to her feet and grabbed her ear. 

“Oww. The fuck, Woods.” She did not look comfortable holding onto her ear at a weird angle. “If you wanted to play rough, you could have just asked. Consent is sexy.”

“Let’s go have a talk about consent with Becca,” Anya smiled, lifting her hand higher and Raven with it. 

“Woods…Anya…” Raven whined, holding her ear, the tips of her shoes barely making contact with the ground. “Let’s work this out.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” Anya said to Lexa before walking out with the other Woods kids, Raven in an awkward floating tow. Clarke could hear the echo of Raven’s whining from down the hall. 

“Clarke,” Lexa drew Clarke’s attention back to her. 

“Don’t Clarke me. You're hiding something. Something big.”

Lexa didn’t budge. 

“Spill,” Clarke said, after she stiffly rose to her feet. 

“I cannot do this right now, Clarke.” Lexa sighed. 

“Why not?” Clarke felt her face heat up. “Anya attacked me once over some secret. I’ve caught you watching me. You have these weird conversations about me behind my back, then pull whatever it was we did in your bedroom and then leave me with this mystery book from someone named C…” Clare sighed. “I think I deserve some answers.”

Lexa closed her eyes. After a beat, Lexa opened them and sighed, “You do. But I can’t give them to you yet.”

Clarke bit her the inside of bottom lip fighting the urge to scream at Lexa. _Why is this so hard? Why is everything a mystery with you, Lexa? What do you think you’re protecting? Why me? Why do you get to decide when and where and what I know?_

Clarke could feel her face heating up, but tried to keep her cool. At least Lexa was not straight up lying anymore. “Fine. But answer me one thing.” Clarke said, closing the space between them until she was standing directly in front of Lexa.

“One?” 

“Yes,” Clarke nodded.

Lexa frowned. “One.”

“Who is C?” 

Lexa glared at Clarke, as if Clarke had slapped her. After a tense minute, Lexa uncrossed her arms and said, “I knew I shouldn’t have lent you that book.” 

Lexa walked to one of the chairs and sat down, motioning for Clarke to join her. 

Clarke made her way over to Lexa, sitting in the chair closest to her side. Maybe if Lexa didn’t have to look her in the face, it would make it easier.

“C… Costia, myself and the others were part of a secret experiment called Project HEDA, Hyper Elite Debridement Agents,” Lexa said matter-of-factly.

“Debridement?” The term sounded familiar, like an SAT word, but Clarke could not place it. The name though she did, because it was the name Anya had mentioned before.

“The removal of dead, damaged, or infected tissue to improve the healing potential of the remaining healthy tissue.” Lexa had clearly memorized the definition.

“It's a medical term,” It clicked for Clarke that she had read that term in one of her mother’s medical textbooks. Who knew reading might come in handy one day.

“Yes.”

“So you were being trained to become surgeons…with your powers?”

At this, Lexa shook her head, closing her eyes for a moment before saying, “If only. When powers first started appearing, scientists, the military, and anyone with money jumped at the chance to become superhuman.”

“Becca co-founded a think tank, Ascende Superius, with her sister, Alie, and other mutants and interested parties to study mutant abilities. When Becca left, Alie took over and focused her attention to a side project.” Lexa looked away from Clarke.

“Project HEDA?”

Lexa nodded, taking out her knife and fiddling with the tip. Clarke looked at the knife, noticing for the first time that a number was inscribed in the hilt, 206. “Alie decided that humans without powers were the tissue that needed to be removed for humanity to survive.” Lexa snapped her knife closed. “Project HEDA began specifically seeking out and attempting to cultivate omnipotent mutants, like Costia… like me”

“So everyone was right? You're omnipotent?” Clarke said, sitting back in her chair, absorbing the admission. 

“It’s the biggest not-secret at Franko’s I suppose,” Lexa shook her head. “You stop a kitchen fire in home economics once with your powers and everyone labels you an omni. I didn’t even use my manipulating powers. They merely made assumptions based on my past and my level of control.”

“Correct assumptions,” Clarke offered.

“Assumptions none-the-less,” Lexa sighed. 

“Okay. Thank you for telling me,” Clarke ran her fingers through her hair, wincing at using her arm during the action. She didn’t let the pain distract her. “but that doesn’t explain the book or what this has to do with me.”

“Costia was the reason I and the other Woods escaped Alie and Project HEDA,” Lexa said, with a half smile.

Clarke nodded, trying to be patient for once in her life and failing. This still didn’t answer her questions. “Why isn’t she here with you?”

“She died in the escape,” Lexa bit her lip, as if leaving her mouth open would spill more secrets. Lexa’s eyes turned glassy.

“Oh.” It's not like Clarke couldn’t have guessed Costia’s fate, but hearing it took some wind out of her sails. She sat there until some of the luster in Lexa’s eyes returned.

Blinking a few times, Lexa continued, “Costia was like you, Clarke. Or at least, I believe so.”

“A kinetic energy absorber?”

“A light energy omni."

Clarke shook her head. “I’m not an omni, and I don’t…do light stuff," Clarke said, looking down at her hands. “That’s more Echo’s thing.”

For the first time since Clarke had been unceremoniously dragged into the library by Anya, Lexa cracked a real smile.

“At least you’re observant,” Lexa smirked. 

“Thanks,” Clarke rolled her eyes. 

Lexa turned towards Clarke. “There’s more to it than that, but if my theory is correct, an energy omni, whatever the specialty, is an energy omni. Absorbers are rarely ever just absorbers. I am sorry for the secrecy, Clarke. I wasn’t sure if you were what I thought you were. And even then, I didn’t know if you would want to be mixed up in this war.” Lexa began snapping and unsnapping her knife open, like she was clicking a very sharp pen, coming dangerously close to nicking herself with each click. Clarke put her gloved hand on Lexa’s to stop her. Touching Lexa was a little easier this time, Clarke had to admit. 

“You didn’t give me a chance to decide,” Clarke whispered, drawing small circles on Lexa’s hand with her thumb. As Clarke was processing, it occurred to her that Lexa had probably been training her to replace Costia. _To replace someone who was an actual omni who still died._ The thought didn’t sit well with her, but a part of her still wanted to try and comfort Lexa. 

Lexa put her hand on Clarke’s. “You could help, if we could control your powers. If you chose to,” Lexa hurried to explain. “I never would have made you do anything you didn't want to.” 

Clarke had never witnessed Lexa act so, well, not-Lexa. Her green eyes kept scanning Clarke’s as if waiting for an attack and Clarke realized that Lexa was no longer in predator mode. She was prey, she was unsure of herself, open. 

“Project HEDA steals children from their families, Clarke. Children who are then trained to fight and kill. Myself, Anya, Lincoln, and the others escaped together a few years ago and Becca took us in to make up for her sister’s actions. We’ve been here ever since getting stronger and strategizing to find and break back into Project HEDA. To destroy it, and save the children.”

“How many?”

“When we escaped there were a handful of kids around 6 to 8 years old. They may have more now. There was no one over 10 years old.”

“So if I’m understanding you...you were planning to use me to break into a top secret mutant run lab?” Clarke didn’t know why saying it aloud bothered her. She contemplated removing her hand from Lexa’s. 

Sensing Clarke’s suspicion, Lexa’s face changed. Immediately the wall was back, the façade of being in control.

“As far as I see it, it was mutually beneficial. You learned control and we gained a potential ally.” 

Clarke’s jaw dropped. Lexa wasn’t even denying that she had been using Clarke. “Couldn’t you have just asked?”

“Yes, Clarke. I'm sure if I had said, hello, I know we just met but I believe your powers, of which you are terrified and cannot control, are crucial to saving the lives of children and I’m only here to see if I can get you ready in time for our years-in-the-making attempt to break into a top secret mutant run laboratory.”

Clarke turned her head away from Lexa, looking anywhere but those angry green eyes. Lexa hadn’t said anything with malice or anything that wasn’t true—goddess knows she would have hightailed it out of that hypothetical conversation faster than Octavia running to Lincoln’s side at lunch—but it wasn't fair for Lexa to not give her the whole picture, to let her make a choice. To know where she stood. 

“You don’t understand the stakes. What they do to children there.... I can’t let them continue to suffer and die,” Lexa said, removing her hand from Clarke’s and using it to slam her fist down on her thigh. Clarke turned back at that, watching as Lexa’s nostrils flared and her gaze pierced the floor, looking fiercer than Clarke had ever seen the brunette. To her credit, Clarke didn’t jump at Lexa’s anger. Clarke was always going to be the scariest thing to herself in any room. “We’ve already wasted so many years planning,” Lexa’s voice cracked. “So many children...gone.” 

“Why not go to the older mutants? Dr. Franko?”

Lexa shook her head, “She’s aware of some of it, but she’s also aware that any action from Franko’s would turn into an all out war between Becca’s people and Alie’s. She tries her best to find kids before her sister does, but it's not enough, and she would never let us be involved.”

Lexa continued but her voice was weaker. “I was going to explain everything to you in time,” Lexa said, squeezing Clarke’s hand. “If and when you became an asset to the plan.”

It was as if Lexa’s words finally set a switch off in her head. “ _If?_ So what? I’m a backup plan? Is that all you see me as? A potential tool?” Lexa had known what she had been doing with Clarke all along. _Was any of it real?_ Clarke pulled her hand out of Lexa’s grasp and stood up out of her chair.

“That is not what I meant, Clarke.”

“No, you meant it exactly like that, Lexa,” Clarke said as she started pacing. “How were you planning on _using_ me anyways?” Clarke hissed. “Huh? Have me touch every guard and kill them?”

“No. Clarke,” Lexa stood up. “If you would let me explain.” She began walking towards Clarke, who held out her hands, effectively stopping Lexa. 

“You had your chance to explain,” Clarke spat. _Why am I so angry?_ Maybe it was because this was another instance where something or someone other than herself was controlling her destiny. First, she lost her dad to some freak storm when she was a kid. Then she lost Finn and gained the ability to murder people. Lost contact with her mom and her home for their safety. And now, just when she was beginning to gain a sense of agency back, over her powers and her relationships, she learns that Lexa had been using her the whole time. _Fuck that._

“I understand that my intentions were not forthcoming, but if you were in my shoes... You must see the logic.”

“I don’t give a crap about the logic, Lexa. You are so concerned about these kids that you tricked me into…” _Liking you. No, that’s not her fault. It’s mine._ “I thought you genuinely wanted to help me.”

“I did,” Lexa shook her head. “I still do.”

“But only to help your own people.”

“Clarke.” Lexa didn’t reach out to Clarke. She stood there as if Clarke would see reason and come back on her own. 

Clarke turned away, giving herself a respite from Lexa’s overwhelming presence. She knew if she kept looking into the brunette’s eyes, she’d give in and forgive even though a true apology had never been spoken.

The hum of the electric lights in the library and the patter of rain on the windows filled the void their voices had left behind. She hadn’t even noticed when the rain started. 

Clarke looked out one of the windows, pitch black save for the glare from the library ceiling lights. She wondered when she had fallen so deep down the rabbit hole that was Lexa Woods. Just as she was going to respond, a muffled boom shook the library, knocking books off their shelves, causing the lights to blink and almost throwing her off balance. A layer of dust filled the air. 

She felt pressure on her arm and found Lexa’s holding on to her in a defensive posture, smoke emitting from the hand not holding her. 

“What was that?” Clarke said, not bothering to pull away from Lexa. She was mad, but she wasn’t dumb. That blast didn’t sound man-made, or at least not nomu-made. 

All of a sudden Lincoln, or what looked like a hologram of Lincoln in a loose fitting t-shirt and drawstring pants was standing in the library with them. Even as a hologram, Clarke could see he was bleeding from a cut on his forehead.

“Lincoln?” Clarke managed before another boom shook the room. A screeching siren started going off accompanied with flashing red lights on the ceiling. 

“Get to the safe room. Now!” Lincoln’s projection looked at something to his left that the girls couldn’t see before flickering out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all its my birthday tomorrow! My birthday present is this chapter for you! I hope you enjoy the direction this fic is going in. Does Clarke believe Lexa? What is going on? We'll find out soon enough. Stay safe and eat some cake for me!


	7. Offence Versus Defense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The *blank* hits the fan as Clarke realizes just what has attacked the school. Of course, Clarke won't face it alone, but will it be enough to save the school and her friends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy December! This year is almost over, and this fic is still kicking! Thanks for all the kudos, comments, and bookmarks! It motivates me to continue this fic. Also it gives me all the warm fuzzies. Enjoy the next installment as I deviate farther and farther from the X-men movie. Trigger warning for bodily injury.
> 
> I've been listening to "Michael in the Bathroom" from the musical "Be More Chill" on repeat. It doesn't have anything to do with this chapter, but its been getting me through the last few weeks. I recommend it if you ever get social anxiety and want to feel seen.

“Get to the safe room, Clarke,” Lexa said, pushing past Clarke to the doorway.

“What safe room?” Clarke caught up with her as Lexa scanned the hallway.

“They went over it during orientation, it's near the gymnasium.” 

“I wasn’t exactly paying attention.”

“Then go back to your room, find Raven and follow the crowd.”

“Where are you going?”

“It’s not your problem.” Without more, Lexa ran towards the direction the sounds had come from. 

“Lexa!” Clarke yelled, but Lexa was already out of sight. “Motherfuc-” Another boom shook the hallway, sending her to her knees. It was getting closer.

Clarke found her footing and ran through hallways and groups of confused students until she found her room and slammed through the door. 

“The fuck?!” Raven yelled, holding a heavy duty flashlight up as a weapon. “Jesus, Clarke. What are you trying to do? Scare me to death?”

Normally a joke like that would have bothered Clarke, but, right now, it was the last thing on her mind. 

“Did you not notice…” Clarke wheezed, her lungs catching up with the rest of her body.

“The explosions? Yeah. Becca wasn’t in her office so I came back here to wait for you. I was just packing for the safe room.”

“What’s the safe room?” Clarke said, jumping into action. She grabbed her second glove, slipping her hand into it. Happy for its security. 

“We go over it at orientation and during the annual fire drill. It’s a room we go to in case of emergency,” Raven said, digging in one of her drawers for something. 

“What kind of emergency?” Clarke asked as she pulled on a black leather jacket. 

Another boom, or maybe blast, rocked the building. A couple of her picture frames fell off the desk, but she ignored it.

“That kind,” Raven said, stuffing a flashlight, a small tool kit, copper wires, and a granola bar into her bag.

“Food?”

“You never know,” Raven shrugged, heading towards the door. Clarke nodded and grabbed a water bottle, her first aid kit, her messenger bag and Lexa’s book. She also fished out her dad’s watch out of a drawer and put it on. She had been hesitant to wear it at Franko’s for fear of losing it, but something told Clarke she might not get a second chance to wear it if she didn’t take it now. As soon as Raven had opened the door, the sound of people yelling echoed from somewhere in the building. 

“Come on. The safe room is near the nurses station next to the gym.” Raven started jogging, not waiting for Clarke to agree. Clarke ran to keep up but was having trouble as various students began pouring out of their rooms heading in the same direction. 

Clarke mentally pictured the nurses station, it was at the very center of the building and they were on the most southern edge. Whatever was happening was happening near the east side of the building, near the auditorium. 

Octavia and Emori bumped into Raven, joining the jog with her and Clarke. 

“Did Lincoln reach you, too?” Octavia asked. She was wearing a set of Adventure time pajamas and Emori had on an extra large Iron Maiden shirt that reached her knees and a red mitten to cover her hand. Emori didn’t seem phased by the blasts, she was sucking on a cherry lollipop and jogging at leisurely pace like there weren’t dozens of children and young adults screaming and crying as they ran past her. Octavia on the other hand seemed ready for a fight. She kept glancing behind her and around them, fists clenched.

Raven nodded, “Where’s Echo?”

Emori shrugged, “Probably already in the safe room.”

“Do you know what’s going on?” Clarke asked the shorter brunette. Keeping an eye on each opening door for a threat. Another boom vibrated through the hall causing some students to shriek.

Octavia shook her head. “No, but…” Octavia stopped jogging, causing Clarke to almost run into her. “I can’t hide in a safe room until we find out.” They all stopped.

“Octavia,” Raven said, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “This is not the time to be a hero.” 

“I have an offensive power. I can help!” Octavia said, not waiting for anyone’s permission before running in the opposite direction they’d come. 

“Someone has to stop her." Clarke looked at Raven, her blue eyes pleading with her. "We don’t even know what is happening."

Raven sighed. “You want to stop Edwarda Scissor-elbows?” Raven said, jerking her thumb in the direction Octavia had run. 

Clarke nodded and looked to Emori for support. 

“She is one of my roommates,” Emori said, taking out her sucker and crossing her arms.

“Raven, Lexa’s there, too.”

“What?” Raven facepalmed herself. “That mean’s Anya’s there with her.”

That was all Clarke needed as she began pushing against the kids now running in the opposite direction as them. Emori followed suit. 

“Great, just great,” Raven said, grumbling loudly as she started digging around in her bag. “Y’all know I’m a lover not a fighter, right? That means I stay away from the booms! Or I make them!” She began running after the three other women. 

* * *

“Who is that?” Raven said, rounding the corner. Octavia, Emori and Clarke had already stopped to stare at a short dirty-blonde girl blocking the rest of the hallway in front of them. She couldn't have been more than 13. Her hair was braided into a mohawk french-braid. She wore a crisp grey tech fleece jacket and matching joggers. 

“She’s not one of ours,” Emori said.

“Not with that outfit,” Octavia added. It wasn’t just her outfit that set her apart. If pressed, Clarke would say later that her eyes lacked warmth. 

“Are you lost?” Clarke asked. 

“What’s your name?” Emori asked.

“I’m looking for someone,” the girl said, never taking her eyes off Clarke. 

“Maybe we can help you find them,” Raven said, playing along. 

The girl turned her gaze to Raven. “Not you.” The girl raised her hand, aiming her palm in Raven’s direction.

“Woah, woah woah little girl,” Raven said, taking a step forward. “We’re not trying to hurt you.”

“The name’s Charlotte, not little girl,” Charlotte said as a projectile shot from her palm at Raven who barely had time to flinch. The sound of metal on metal pierced the air. Raven opened her eyes to see one of Octavia’s blades weeping blood inches from her face. She glanced down to see a knife shaped chunk of iron at her feet. 

“Never thought I’d be happy to see your bloody arms, Octavia,” Raven exhaled. Clarke looked from Raven to Charlotte. The girl didn’t seem phased by Octavia’s power. Instead, she fired off another projective aimed at Clarke. Octavia deftly blocked that one as well. 

“You need to get out of here,” Octavia said, walking to stand in front of Clarke and Raven. “You’ll only get in the way.”

“We’re not going to leave you with her,” Clarke said.

“You’re not,” Emori said as her voice and her figure changed. She got a little taller and a lot darker. 

“You chose Professor Seda to morph into?” Raven shook her head impressed. 

Emori-Indra smiled, “She can turn her body into diamonds. I think that’s appropriate given the situation.”

“She’s got a point,” Clarke said as she looked for the best exit. “Raven, where to?”

“We circle around, try to get to the safe room before it closes.”

“It closes?!” Clarke’s eyes widened. 

Finally catching on, Charlotte unleashed a barrage of projectile knives in their direction. Emori-Indra stepped in front of Octavia, taking the brunt of the attack. Octavia deflected the remaining blades from the rear. 

“Go!” Octavia said, blocking another blade. 

“Got it!” Raven yelled, as she pulled Clarke back the way they came. Another boom rocked the building, to the left this time. 

“That way,” Clarke yelled. They ran until they couldn’t hear the din of knives against diamond and iron. 

“Clarke,” Raven said, slumping against the wall for support. “Buddy. Roomie. I love you, but what do you hope to do if we find the source of the blasts?”

Catching her breath, Clarke leaned against the wall for support. 

“I don’t know if I’ve said this before,” Raven said, pointing to herself then Clarke, “but neither of us are offensive mutants. You saw what Charlotte could do. I don’t know if you realize, she just made more organic knives than a mutant her age and size should be able to generate in a year.”

“So?” Clarke crossed her arms.

“And she’s not the boom maker,” Raven said, wringing her hands. “She’s not alone. Imagine the boom maker, Clarke. Please!”

A shrill alarm went off twice, causing both Raven and Clarke to jump. 

“Shit,” Raven said, kicking the wall. 

“What?”

“The safe room is closed, Clarke. We’re stuck out here.”

“What do you mean?” Clarke looked around, expecting a no-vacancy sign to pop-up. 

“It’s the alarm. It goes off when the safe room is locked.”

“They didn’t wait for us?” Clarke frowned.

“They can’t. It’s protocol,” Raven said, massaging her temples. “The professors lock up the students they can and then come out to assess the threat or damage.”

Clarke nodded, finally realizing the kind of danger she had put them both in. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Raven.”

“Let's just find a place to ride this o-” A deafening noise cut Raven off as the hallway rocked violently. The floor underneath them froze, trapping their shoes, and sending them into sitting positions. 

“Oww,” Raven muttered, rubbing her left butt cheek. Clarke, who was similarly dealing with her own pain from the force, rubbed her tailbone. She looked in the direction the ice had come from and gasped. Raven looked up at the sound and hissed a curse in Spanish. 

A tall pale woman, wearing a translucent blue helmet of sorts and matching white blazer and pants stepped over the remnants of the hallway wall, additional ice creeping over every surface she touched. With a snap of her fingers, a wall of ice built up behind her, effectively sealing the wall.

Clarke shivered next to Raven, and not just from the cold. The tall intruder’s attention wasn’t on Clarke and Raven though, it was on a smaller figure at the other end of the hallway that Clarke and Raven hadn’t spotted, Lexa.

“HEDA 206.” The woman seemed to know Lexa. Clarke couldn’t tell if Lexa and the woman were aware that her and Raven were in the hallway with them.

“I go by Lexa now, Nia,” Lexa said haughtily. “Who let you off your leash?”

“Now is that any way to address your elder?” Despite being insulted, the woman smiled. “I follow no one's orders but my own now.” 

“I wouldn’t call being number 32 my elder,” Lexa crossed her arms. “Too bad 32 isn’t your age.”

“Still not grasping the concept of respect I see,” Nia snarled. “Come, it's time to return home and take your rightful place.”

“And where is that?”

“In the ground,” Nia said, smiling. “I wasn’t planning on finishing what I started tonight, but why not?” She lifted her right hand and pointed her palm towards Lexa. “Do say hello to 209 for me.” 

A burst of ice shot out of Nia’s hand towards Lexa faster than Clarke could blink.

The sound of ice crashing into and over the walls was deafening. The blast wave cracked the ice at their feet enough for Clarke and Raven to pull their shoes out. Clarke finally understood where the booms had come from earlier.

The whole hallway was covered in a wall of clear blue tinted ice. It was like a bad version of Frozen was playing out before her very eyes: _Frozen III: Elsa’s Revenge for not getting a canon girlfriend_.

When the ice blast subsided, Clarke looked to where Lexa had been standing, but couldn’t see through the ice. 

“Lexa!” Clarke yelled. There was no way the brunette could have survived a direct attack like that. This seemed to get Nia's attention, because Nia was not glancing over at Clarke and Raven. Nia smiled again, a smile Clarke really didn't like, and turned to face them. She raised her hand towards them, shooting a blast of ice at Raven and Clarke. There was no time to move or run, so Clarke braced for impact.

The sound of ice shattering around and Raven’s grunt filled the air.

“Fucking ice pendeja,” Raven growled, standing in front of Clarke and holding a body sized metal shield. It was the only thing that had prevented the ice from hitting them directly. Clarke looked from her body, in one piece, to Raven who was trembling as she held the shield against the now stagnant wall of ice. The shield seemed to be the only thing keeping Raven up. 

Once the blast fully subsided, leaving a cave of ice around them, the brunette retracted the shield into her flashlight and fell with a moan to one knee, unable to support her weight.

“Raven!” Clarke skidded over the ice to Raven, pulling out her first aid kit from her bag. 

“Didn’t I just say I wasn’t an offensive mutant?” Raven hissed, holding her leg. A shard of ice jutted out from Raven’s navy sweatpants where her left leg met her knee. Ripping away the remains of Raven’s sweatpants, Clarke revealed the skin around the icicle was a festering combination of red and black. Necrotic tissue ran the length of Raven’s shin. 

“Raven, you have severe frostbite,” Clarke said, trying to figure out if there was anything she could do to help. Her mother had never taught her how to treat something like this. 

“Tell me something…I don’t know,” Raven gritted her teeth. “Like why is it so cold and hot all at the same time?!” Raven took a look at her own leg, and he face turned pale.

“Did I mention I pass out at the sight of blood?” Raven’s already pale face took on a green hue. 

“Hey, hey,” Clarke waved her hands in front of Raven’s face. “Don’t faint on me now. There’s a crazy lady next door and…” Clarke tried to think of something to keep Raven’s attention. Dragging a conscious body was harder than dragging an unconscious one. “You haven’t told me where you got the idea for that shield. You literally pulled it out of nowhere.” 

“Percy Jackson,” Raven said, leaning against the ice and breathing through her teeth. 

“What?” Clarke hadn’t read that book or seen the movies. She had meant to, but it came out after her time. “You know what? Never mind. Why isn’t your skin healing itself?” 

“Too deep…” Raven closed her eyes. A feeling of dread crept over Clarke. Raven wasn’t healing, the mutant who had done this was waiting just beyond the wall of ice, and Lexa was probably dead. 

The sound of cracking ice drew her attention away from Raven. The wall was starting to melt, which could only mean one thing. 

“Shit.” Clarke grabbed Raven from her underarms and started to drag her back. “We have to get out of here, Rae.” A litany of Spanish and English curses escaped Raven’s mouth, effectively stopping Clarke in her tracks. She might be causing more harm than good and the end of the hallway was awfully far away.

Steam started to crawl over the ice wall the shield had created towards Clarke, speeding up the melting process. She had two options: run for her life and hope she made it to help before Raven bled out from another direct attack, or stay and fight. 

She looked from Raven to the open hallway behind them and back to the melting ice wall. Taking a deep breath, Clarke walked in front of Raven and pulled off her gloves, stuffing them in her messenger bag, which she readjusted to sit on her back.

Her powers weren’t useful, but they were the only thing she had now. Leaving Raven was not an option, and that ice mutant had killed Lexa. 

“Raven, I’m going to borrow your flashlight, okay?” Clarke's voice wavered. She didn’t need to look behind her to know that Raven wasn’t going to protest. She had passed out. Clarke grabbed the flashlight off the ground and pressed the switch expanding the shield, which was thick but surprisingly light weight.

Large chunks of the wall started to come down, forcing Clarke to back away a little. The openings gave way to a wave of steam, turning everything into half melted puddles. 

Clarke went from shivering to sweating as the bed of steam reached her.

When the steam cleared and the wall melted, Clarke spotted someone with their back turned to Clarke just a few feet away.

* * *

Clarke almost dropped Raven’s shield, “Lexa?” 

Lexa turned her head, giving Clarke a wink. “I’ve got this. Take care of Raven.” Clarke managed to nod back, her mouth partially hanging open. The brunette stood tall, skinny columns of fire in the shape of samurai swords erupting from each of her hands. Smoke emanated from the sides of Lexa’s eyes giving her a messy smoky eye on top of her usually crisp black eyeliner. If the chances of being killed by an ice mutant weren’t so unreasonably high, Clarke would have let her knees give out at the sight, because _goddamnit Lexa was_ _hot_. 

Lexa turned back towards her opponent, a now partially drenched Nia. Her helmet was half melted and her ivory colored clothes had scorch marks, and she did not look pleased. No dry cleaner could fix that. 

“You’ve improved,” Nia leered, refreezing her ice helmet. 

“You haven’t,” Lexa said, twirling her fire blades with ease.

Nia growled. She raised her arms up shooting icicles towards Lexa. A blast of fire erupted from Lexa’s blades towards Nia’s onslaught of ice, cutting through it easily.

“We both know how this ends, Nia. Fire beats ice,” Lexa said, retracting her blades, fists smoking and then erupting into balls of fire. “Leave while you still can.”

“Oh, 206. Always thinking you’re in charge,” Nia chuckled. “I thought you would have grown out of that by now. Too bad we’re not leaving until we get what we came for.”

“We?” Lexa frowned. Clarke’s mind raced back to her group’s encounter with Charlotte. This wasn’t some freak mutant getting revenge on Lexa or the school. This was a coordinated attack with a purpose.

“You remember 304B, don’t you?” Nia’s grin widened. A younger brunette stepped out from behind Nia. When she had gotten there, Clarke didn’t know.

The brunette had a creepy smile on her face considering the situation. She looked way too excited about breaking into the school and facing Lexa.

“I cannot say that I do,” Lexa said, letting her flaming hands turn into true balls of fire, ready for a fight. “What happened to 304A?”

“I killed him,” The shorter brunette laughed. “I’m Ontari by the way. I’ve been dying to meet you, Lexa.”

When Lexa didn’t respond, Ontari clapped her hands in Lexa’s direction instantly putting her fire out.

Lexa looked at her hands, surprised to see them extinguished. “What are you?”

“Your worst nightmare,” Ontari said, giggling. Nia looked from Ontari to Lexa and started walking towards an opening in the ice she had made. Lexa reignited her hands, sending fireballs in Nia’s direction. With a flick of Ontari’s wrist, Lexa’s fireballs dissolved before they even got close to Nia.

Undeterred, Lexa shot out a stream of fire straight in Ontari’s direction. The brunette didn’t so much as flinch, choosing instead to raise her right hand and practically absorb the blaze. Nia made it past the entrance of the opening and sealed it with ice.

“An oxygen Omni?” Lexa asked, lowering her hands after realizing throwing more fire at Ontari would be futile.

Ontari grinned. “Not a bad guess, for a failure.” Ontari raised her right hand up in the shape of a finger gun and pointed it at Clarke. “But not exactly,” Ontari said, twitching her finger upwards. The ground in front of Clarke exploded, throwing her onto her back and knocking the wind out of her. 

“Clarke?” Lexa yelled, looking back at Clarke but standing her ground. 

“I’m...fine,” Clarke wheezed. “Shield...took most of...the blast.” She didn’t feel the need to mention that her back, and by extension her bag, took the brunt of the fall. 

When she could breathe again, Clarke took the opportunity to scoot back slowly until she was sitting next to Raven’s passed out form. Clarke was never meant to be an offensive mutant anyways.

Lexa tossed a quick glance to the ground where Ontari had created the explosion. “Nitroglycerin?” Lexa shook her head and looked back at Ontari with a sad smile. “It's too unstable to occur naturally in a mutant...No, you were modified in a laboratory… with my blood.” Lexa said, taking a step towards Ontari. “Weren’t you?”

That seemed to enrage Ontari, who immediately started screaming at Lexa, “All Nia could talk about was lost omni 206. How no other omni would measure up to that.”

Ontari began walking towards Lexa. “A mutant who mastered carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen to create combustion at the age of 12.” Lexa, anticipating an attack, started running as the ground near her feet exploded. She was thrown, but managed to roll to her feet a second later. It was harder than it looked because the ground was a mix of ice, wet carpet, and exposed hardwood. 

“Useless 304 could only manipulate three elements at 14,” Ontari screeched as the wall behind Lexa exploded, catching Lexa off guard and throwing her onto her hands and knees. 

Lexa bit back a curse. The girl was fast and very angry. Those were a bad combination on a good day, and today was not a good day. 

“I am the true omni HEDA envisioned," Ontari was screaming now. "And defeating you will show Nia and everyone we don’t need a runaway omni or an energy loser leading us!” Ontari raised one hand into the air, the other pointed at Lexa. “Let’s see you try to fight this.”

Waves of almost translucent white fog erupted from Ontari’s upward facing palm, while a blast of air shot out at Lexa before she could rise, forcefully pushing her onto her feet and back against the wall. Ontari continued pushing Lexa back with a jet stream of air, preventing her from lifting her palms towards the stream. 

“Come on, Lexa,” Ontari said, pumping out more white fog from her hand. “I expected more from the HEDA who disposed of seven other omnis.”

In her corner, Clarke was dealing with problems of her own. “Raven, you have to wake up,” Clarke said, smacking Raven’s uninjured leg. “Your fat ass is too heavy to carry.”

Raven groggily opened her eyes enough to squint angrily at Clarke. “F...U.” A sigh of relief escaped Clarke, if Raven was conscious, they might be able to make it out of there alive. 

Clarke was in the final stages of wrapping up what she could of Raven’s leg, most of the ice shard had melted leaving a gaping hole below Raven’s knee, when she felt all the tension she was holding in her shoulders disappear. The pain from her earlier falls lessened. Any thought of Lexa or the school being under attack left her brain. Slowly she lifted her now very heavy head to watch Raven’s eyelids droop.

“Rae?” Clarke asked, finding she was struggling to take a full breath of air. 

“What was in those bandages? Cause I feel like I’m on cloud nine-ty-ninie…” Raven laughed.

“Rae, thas not even a numberrr,” Clarke’s tongue felt heavier by the second as she fought to look up to where Lexa had been. She found the brunette, face against a wall, trying to press herself against Ontari’s air blast with all her might but making little headway. When she had managed to flip herself, Clarke didn’t know.

“Lex-ah… push-ups are horizonal…” Clarke would have started laughing, but she desperately needed to take a nap. She put her head down for a moment, ignoring the wet carpet cradling her head, letting sleep take her, only to be rudely awakened by the sound of crackling wood. _How long have I been out? Why is my face wet?_

With a lot of effort, Clarke opened her eyes to a sight she would never forget.

Lexa stood in the middle of the hallway, or what had once been a hallway. She appeared to have charred out a 12 foot radius around her. The skin around her eyes was covered in a disturbing black soot mask, almost like a raccoon. Tendrils of black smoke escaped from her eyes and her mouth. In each hand she was again generating her long skinny columns of fire that had a sword-like appearance. Much of Lexa’s outer garments were partially burnt off or missing. Lexa’s once dark green plaid skirt and black stockings were reduced to black boy shorts over ripped black stockings. Clarke remembered because Lexa almost never wore skirts. Lexa’s long sleeve black shirt was almost a sleeveless crop top. All around her, small fires raged only to be squelched by melting ice wall fragments. 

Everything was on fire or wet or both. Most of the lights were gone except a red rotating fire alarm light and the emergency lights on the ground--what was left of it. Most of it was submerged under a couple of inches of water.

 _Am I dreaming?_ Nothing was making sense to Clarke, who rubbed her eyes to get a better look. Now, a rush of memories flooded Clarke. _Ontari. Nia. The ice. The gas. Lexa struggling against Ontari’s attack._

“Lexa?” Clarke croaked. Her mouth tasted like smoke.

“Clarke.” Lexa gave Clarke a pained smile before collapsing.

"Lexa!" Checking to make sure that Raven was still breathing. She was. Clarke willed her sleep heavy limbs to take her to Lexa, almost tripping on a broken floorboard not visible under the water.

After what felt like forever, Clarke landed with a splash by Lexa’s side, Clarke pulled the brunette’s head into her lap. Unconscious Lexa lost her usual intimidation. The black mask across her eyes swallowed her face, and Clarke never would have guessed that Lexa could emit fire from those green eyes, but the smoke was proof she probably had. Remembering where she was, Clarke looked around until she found what she was looking for, Ontari’s crumpled body in the far corner near the other hallway’s entrance.

Whatever Lexa had done to Ontari had left the younger girl completely knocked out, or worse, and with half her hair singed off. In that state, Ontari posed a threat to no one, so Clarke let her gaze return to Lexa. She brushed an errant strand of hair from Lexa’s face that had escaped one of Lexa’s many braids. It was at that moment that Clarke realized that Lexa wasn’t breathing. 

“Lexa? Lexa!” Clarke gently shook the brunette by her shoulders but received no response. Her head lolled in an all too sickeningly familiar fashion. “This isn’t happening,” Clarke said, not hesitating to press her fingers to Lexa’s jugular and then her sternum. Lexa's skin was still warm, but there was no beat that Clarke could discern. For once, the fear fueling her adrenaline wasn’t from her powers but from the lack of them. 

“I don’t care if I’m a manipulator or creator, just do something!” Clarke yelled, pressing her hand to the top of Lexa's sternum, between her clavicles. The sound of wood burning and splitting continued on around her. She thought she could hear voices coming from deeper in the building, but she couldn't be sure. None of the sounds around her was the sound she desperately wanted to hear, Lexa’s inhale. But nothing happened. No powers. No energy coursing into her. Nothing clicking, and, most regrettably, nothing fixing the situation she was in. 

"Fuck this." Clarke changed her position and started doing CPR. "I’m so stupid! Why didn’t I start with that? Powers... unreliable dangerous stupid powers got us here. They can’t be the only solution." 

She pressed harder like her mom had taught her. Trying to remember the words to ‘Staying Alive’. Irony at its finest. She pressed in a rhythmic pattern, stopped to listen and then pressed again hoping she didn’t have to crack Lexa’s ribs. 

She did another compression, then brought her face to Lexa’s. With one hand, Clarke grabbed Lexa’s nose and with the other pulled Lexa’s chin far enough to open her mouth. Without thinking, she pressed her chapped lips to Lexa’s noting that she tasted like ash. Clarke blew with everything she had and went back to pumping on Lexa’s chest. She repeated the cycle, refusing to stop, because if she stopped...well, it was better not to dwell on that. 

She felt a weight on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off and continued. 

“Clarke,” Raven’s voice, barely louder than the sound of crackling wood, reached Clarke, who refused to turn, to stop, to acknowledge defeat.

“Clarke,” Raven’s voice was weak but insistent.

“No, Raven,” Clarke wheezed, pushing again and again to her desperate rhythm. 

“She’s gone, Clarke.” 

Clarke looked down at Lexa’s prone form. Clarke’s hands were still on her chest, but she’d stopped trying to make Lexa’s heart beat. Clarke looked over her shoulder to Raven, who had somehow found the strength to drag herself to them. She shook her head. 

“Niko?” Clarke asked, hopeful.

“I have no clue where anyone is…” Raven sighed, holding up a severely cracked cell phone. “It shattered in the attack. I can try to fix it, but its also wet.” Clarke fished for her phone in her jean pocket, finding it equally destroyed. 

Clarke shook her head. “No… how?” Clarke sat numb. “She was standing a few minutes ago.” Clarke turned back to Lexa. 

Clarke brought her hand to Lexa’s face, caressing the soot stained cheekbones. Not surprisingly, Lexa’s skin was soft but getting cold under her finger tips. Lexa was the first person Clarke had willingly touched since Finn. It wasn’t fair that everyone she wanted to touch died. 

She slipped one hand under Lexa’s head and grabbed her shoulder with the other, pulling her back into her lap. “I’m still mad at you, you know?” Clarke whispered, as a couple stray tears escaped her. Her voice was watery. “You’re not allowed to up and leave before I figure this shit out, Lexa. Dammit.” Clarke choked, bringing her forehead to Lexa’s. “I didn’t get to tell you, but before meeting you, I didn’t think I could survive this whole having powers mess. But…” Clarke swallowed back a sob. “that day you smiled at me, with the rose…You made me realize that maybe I could do this.” Clarke started rocking a little, her grip getting tighter on Lexa’s shoulder. 

“That life should be about more than just surviving. Even us mutants. Don’t we deserve better than that?” Clarke’s golden curls blocked what little light was left as her tears fell on Lexa’s cheek, leaving salt trails on her blackened face. She barely knew the girl, but somehow Lexa had wormed herself into Clarke’s heart. Even with the betrayal, Clarke knew Lexa had done it for a good cause, and she couldn’t hold it against her now. 

Clarke had never felt more cold and exhausted. Her eyes stung from the lingering smoke in the air, and every part of her body hurt. Everything in her was telling her to curl up next to Lexa and never wake up again. 

And she would have, if not the lightest touch at her shoulder. “Clarke!” Raven harshly whispered. Clarke refused to move. What could be more urgent than mourning Lexa? The danger seemed to be over for now, but then again. Clarke sighed, giving herself one more moment before acknowledging Raven’s now insistent whisper. 

She felt it before she heard it, a sharp inhale that led to a weakly exhaled, “Maybe... we do.” 

Clarke opened her eyes to verdant pools in the darkness. 

“Lexa?” Clarke said, pulling back to get a better look. When she did, she realized it was not Raven’s hand on her shoulder, but Lexa’s. “You’re not dead?!”

“Very observant,” Lexa chuckled until it turned into a couth. Clarke smiled so hard it hurt, she didn’t care if Lexa mocked her for the rest of her life, Lexa was alive. 

“Wait…” Clarke stopped smiling, “how much of that did you hear?”

Lexa smiled back, “Enough.”

Before Clarke could process further, Raven’s voice broke in, “I was trying to tell you she was ali...Jesus. Rockets in heaven,” Raven said, pointing to Clarke’s head. “Your hair.”

“My hair?” Clarke looked up, catching a streak of red in her periphery. She grabbed the lock of hair, an outgrown bang, and tugged it a little. It was hers, just an unnaturally bright red color. “Huh.”

Lexa’s weak but commanding voice found itself as she tried to sit up, “You saved me. You're...”

“An omni,” Clarke finished the sentence, refusing to meet her eyes. Lexa nodded but added, "You controlled your power."

Clarke expected Lexa to be proud of her, but she looked conflicted. On the one hand, Lexa’s suspicions were correct, on the other, she’d only been interested in Clarke because of her omni potential. _I guess now I can be useful to her._

“Let’s keep this to ourselves, for now,” Lexa said, looking from Clarke to Raven, who nodded. She pushed herself up to her elbows, grimacing as she did.

“I think I cracked one of your ribs,” Clarke said, wincing. 

“If you didn’t, Ontari did,” Lexa groaned. “Where is she?”

Clarke turned to where she’d last seen their assailant and found the spot empty. “She was right...there.”

“Who is Ontari?” Raven growled, “Where’d the ice bitch go?”

“Even if she escaped, she’s not in any shape to cause harm. Nia could be anywhere. We’ve got to check on the others,” Lexa said, pulling away from Clarke again trying to get up, failing miserably.

“Rest for a minute, Lexa,” Clarke chided, but helped Lexa half sit up anyways.

“Has anyone come for us?” Lexa scanned the room. Clarke shook her head.

Lexa tried to crawl onto her knees, grimacing the entire time. It didn't work. 

“Stay down, Woods,” Raven said, from her own seated position on the floor. “You’re just as stubborn as Anya. You sure you’re not related for reals?”

“Lexa, what happened?” Clarke said, wishing she could make Lexa sit still. 

Lexa ignored both of them. “Clarke, I think you’re the only one who can move. Can you go to Becca’s office? She should have a direct line to the safe room. Call Niko.” 

She felt exhausted, but Clarke could walk, which was more than she could say for Raven and Lexa. Raven was turning white again, and her leg was bleeding through her bandages. As for Lexa, even though she seemed to have accepted her inability to move, Clarke knew that she wasn’t going to stay down for long. Leaving them felt wrong, and who knows what else was lurking in the hallways waiting to attack.

“Maybe I could…” Clarke held her hands out. They were dirty things, covered in soot, mud, and Raven's blood, but they were the only things she had. “You know?” Never in a million years did Clarke think she would be willingly offering to touch Raven, but desperate times called for mutant measures.

For some reason, after sending her energy and the energy she managed to create into Lexa, Clarke felt a better grasp of her powers. She would definitely have to talk with Lexa and maybe even Becca about this when it was all over.

“I’m fine,” Raven said through gritted teeth. Clarke couldn’t tell if it was pride or fear that made Raven reject her offer.

“Your hair turned red, Clarke. We don’t know what using your powers is doing to you,” Lexa shook her head. “You could have died.” 

“But Raven needs help,” Clarke said, hating how whiney her voice sounded. “I can help! I might be able to do some good. I’m offering to use my omni powers, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Raven needs a trained healer,” Lexa frowned. “You could be putting yourself in jeopardy, and I won’t condone that," Lexa sighed. "If I could have declined your help earlier, I would have.”

Clarke opened her mouth to argue back that if that was the case that she should have left Lexa cold on the ground, but Raven started talking. “Raven is right here and thinks both of you need to shut the ‘f’ up.” Clarke and Lexa glared at Raven who rolled her eyes. “Lexa’s right, it's better to try to find Nico. I believe in you and your powers, Clarke, but I don’t think this is the night to test whether you can pull off two miracles in a row without killing yourself.” 

Clarke crossed her arms. _Aren’t roommates supposed to take each other’s side?_

“Get my bag, Clarke.” Raven said, pointing to a puddle.

Begrudgingly, Clarke rose to her feet, realizing for the first time that her hands were not the only things covered in mud and soot. Her entire body was a combination of wet, soggy and gritty. She would never curse Franko’s hot water shortage again if she made it to a shower after this.

“Fine, but I want an explanation from Lexa when I return,” Clarke said, sloshing over to where Raven had pointed. After digging around in the shallow water, Clarke found Raven’s bag.

“Grab the granola bar,” Raven said.

"How are you hungry at a time like this, Raven?” 

“It’s not food,” Raven motioned for Clarke to take a good look at the bar wrapper. “Rip it open here, throw it and run. it's a smoke bomb. You have five seconds before it goes off.”

“Where was this earlier?” 

“I wasn’t exactly conscious, Clarke.” Raven said, flatly. 

“Right.” Guilt started to eat away at Clarke. How could she be angry at Raven for not telling her about the smoke bomb when Clarke was the reason Raven was now injured. 

“And take this,” Raven said, undoing her ponytail to offer Clarke a light blue hair tie.

“Is this also a bomb?” Clarke tried to joke, waiting for Raven to confirm what the tie was before she put it on her wrist.

“It's a tracking device,” Raven smiled. “In case anything happens. Tap it three times, it will send a signal out for help. I would normally track it with my phone, if it was working. Anya has the app I made, so she will get the signal and come running.”

Clarke shook her head. _When would Raven just admit that her and Anya had something going on?_ “Don’t you need it?”

“I have spares,” Raven said, showing Clarke that she had been using two blue hair ties to put up her hair. Clarke nodded, slipping the tie onto her wrist. 

Raven offered her flashlight, but Clarke declined. “You need it more than I do.” It was the only defense Raven had.

“Will you two be alright?” Clarke asked, now hesitant to go. 

Lexa looked between herself and Raven, who nodded weakly holding up her flashlight shield. Lexa lit up her right hand before extinguishing it, flexing her fingers and finding them in suitable condition. “For now.” 

Lexa reached a hand out to Clarke, who didn’t know what to do. Getting used to touching people again was going to be its own challenge. Clarke could not know if her control was temporary. After a short mental debate, Clarke offered her hand and Lexa grabbed Clarke’s forearm, much like Anya had once made her do, but this time Clarke willingly grabbed Lexa’s forearm back. Lexa squeezed Clarke’s arm tight, as Clarke silently reveled at the touch. “Mochof.”

Clarke shook her head. “What?”

“It’s a language we made up when we were in HEDA,” Lexa said, never taking her eyes off Clarke’s. Never once loosening her grip. “It means ‘thank you’.”

Clarke smiled. “You can thank me by staying alive and staying put until I return.” They stayed like that for a moment until Raven coughed *get a room*. 

Lexa smiled back, “I swear to do nothing else. Mostly, because I cannot.”

"We'll be fine, Griffin," Raven said, giving Clarke a weak grin. Her face was getting paler by the minute. How Raven was still conscious, let alone her usual asshole self, was a mystery to Clarke. "Just hurry your ass up."

With one final squeeze to Lexa’s arm, and a nod to Raven, Clarke began her journey to find help. 

The two injured brunettes watched as their friend ran down the destroyed hall into the darkness. Both wanting her to return, for different reasons, in one piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was more of an action chapter, which people may or may not have been anticipating. I couldn't find a good spot to end this chapter, so the chapter is longer than I intended. I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for taking the time to read this! I'm very excited for what comes in the future of this fic! Happy New Year folks!


	8. Take me by the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke goes to search for help, and the Delinquents and Woods are left to pick up the pieces after the attack. Will anything ever be the same again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to 2021, where things are on fire, but we're fine. Sometimes, everything feels so bleak and lonely. Other times, I remember there is a community of people out there with similar interests and passions managing to hang on. You keep me hanging on, in a good way. Enough of this sentimentality. I hope you enjoy this segment of GAO.

“So... what are your intentions with my roommate, huh?” Raven said. She couldn’t help but poke at Lexa. It was the only thing distracting her from the searing pain in her leg and the lingering fear of another attack. It had only been minutes, but it felt like hours to Raven as she tried to stay conscious.

“My intentions were...are complicated,” Lexa said, still looking into the darkness that Clarke had disappeared into ten minutes ago. She raised her fingers to her lips. They had that slick slightly sticky coating only chapstick could leave, but she could not remember putting any type of lip moisturizer on that evening. 

"Right," Raven nodded, encouraging Lexa to elaborate. 

"She's brave, Raven," Lexa said, as if that is was the answer to the question Raven had asked. "She's so much more than I initially thought."

"You don't have to tell me," Raven said, shaking her head. Or shaking it as much as her body would allow before the movement rendered her nauseous. "Apparently, I'd take a shard of ice for her, and I barely know the idiot. She just... grows on you."

Lexa smiled at the irony. "She told you about the rose bush?"

"The rose bush?" Raven closed her eyes, scanning her memory. "She's been drawing a lot of roses, flowers and youuu-know, stuff. Lately." Raven opened her eyes and avoided eye contact, hoping Lexa had not caught her slip-up. Luckily for her, Lexa did not seem to pick up on it, because she was in her own world. 

A far-off look, coupled with the warmest smile Raven had ever seen on Lexa, communicated more than Raven was probably going to get from Lexa tonight. It was answer enough for now.

"So... tell me about this rose bush thing," Raven said. 

* * *

Clarke sighed in relief as she rounded the corner of the professor’s hallway without having to confront any wayward mutants. Unlike most of the hallways she had passed, this one was entirely intact. No signs of ice or water damage. 

Any subsequent booms had become fainter the closer she had gotten to the professor’s hallway. There had been some sounds that made her think she was being followed, but every time she turned to look there was no one there.

Of course it did not help that Clarke was struggling to see anything. After the attack, the lights had gone out leaving the hallways dark and dimly lit by sporadic emergency lighting. On top of the dearth of lights, she was incredibly distracted by everything that had just occurred. Not least of which is that she’d been able to revive Lexa using her powers.

The moment kept playing over and over in her head. Lexa's breathless words like an anthem in her head. _Maybe we do..._

She had never felt so cold, yet so happy. There had been no sensation to alert her to what had transpired. No moment where she ‘tasted’ the sensation of Lexa’s energy, probably because there was none. Clarke could not understand if the cold feeling she felt was her own energy leaving her or the act of creating energy. Whatever it was, it was exhausting. She was sore all over from the fight, and her lungs could not seem to keep up with her need to breathe and run. 

Every time she had to stop and take a break, the red streak of her hair would hang in front of her face, drawing her attention and causing even more distracting thoughts. If her power was taking her own life energy and putting it into someone else, shouldn't her hair have turned grey or white. _Why red?_ _Was this a side effect of creating energy? Did Costia experience something like this? Why didn’t I ask before I left Lexa?_

Clarke tried to refocus on the mission, letting her eyes find the reassuring fruit paintings on the walls. When this was all over, she would never make fun of still-life again. 

Knocking on the door, Clarke said, “Doctor Franko, are you there? Raven and Lexa are injured and...”

A curt come-in led her to open the door and hurriedly entered the office, closing the door behind her. When her eyes acclimated to the light in the office, Clarke paused. Becca’s desk was clear of everything save for a coffee mug, a laptop, and a short stack of multicolored folders. There was no evidence that the booms had rattled anything in the office. Becca herself was wearing a very formal stop sign colored dress with matching pumps. She stood by the desk reading from an equally red folder. 

“Doctor Franko?” Clarke frowned. “You know there’s like an attack on the school, right?” Clarke looked down at her own muddy and ash stained clothing to make sure she was not hallucinating.

Becca smiled, but it didn’t reassure Clarke. Instead, something Lexa had said earlier in the library niggled at her mind. Here was Becca, not a hair out of place even though her entire institution was under siege. Raven had even said that Becca wasn’t in her office right before the attack. Something was definitely wrong. 

“Becca’s desk is always a mess,” Clarke cursed internally at herself. She needed to leave, now. “You’re not Dr. Franko, are you?”

“I am Dr. Franko,” Not-Becca smiled at Clarke. “Just not the one you’re used to.”

“Alie?” Clarke said, trying to remember if Lexa had said Alie was Becca’s twin, because this lady could have been Becca’s stunt double.

“My sister _was_ a genius but she never could keep her house, or should I say school, in order,” Alie pressed her lips together in a tense line. The use of the word ‘was’ lingered in the air. Clarke backed away, trying to get to the door. When the doorknob hit her back, she tried to turn it open. Her panic spiked when the door knob did not turn in her hand. How did Alie lock the door from the inside? She fought the urge to turn and start banging on the door. Turning her eyes away from Becca seemed like the worse option.

“Miss. Griffin, there’s only one way you’re getting out of this room.” 

“And that is?” Clarke continued twisting the knob behind her hoping that if she just jiggled it the right way, it would open.

Alie clasped her hands together, another robotic smile plastered to her face, “I have a proposition.”

* * *

“The door is locked,” Raven said, trying to turn the knob again.

“I don’t understand why you’re here, Reyes. You’re barely standing,” Anya growled softly. She was clearly still annoyed that Raven had insisted on joining Lexa, Octavia and her in their search for Clarke after she did not return with Niko. 

When Anya had found Raven and Lexa, she had insisted on rushing Raven to Niko. Even though Niko had done his best, some of the damage seemed irreversible and only time would tell. Until then, Raven was on crutches and irrepressible.

Octavia nudged Raven aside, “I got this.”

Raven wobbled at the movement, and Anya placed her hand on Raven’s lower back to keep her upright. Octavia lined up her arm with the frosted-glass window on Becca’s office door. 

“Wai-” Anya was interrupted by the sound of glass shattering. She closed her eyes, shaking her head. When she opened them, she found Octavia shrugging.

“What?” 

Instead of releasing a barrage of insults about physical mutants and their lack of brain cells, and that there were, in fact, other ways to open locked doors, mutant powers aside, Anya wordlessly used her powers to safely remove the remaining pieces of glass from the window’s frame. Before Anya could mentally unlock the door, Lexa stuck her hand into the now empty frame, found the lock, turned it, pushing open the door with a crunch as it swept over the broken glass on the floor. Lexa’s stern demeanor was the only thing that prevented Anya from huffing at everyone’s impatience. 

“No one’s here,” Raven said, as she hobbled in after Lexa and Anya into the office. Octavia stayed by the door, keeping an eye out for unwanted visitors.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Anya rolled her eyes. Raven stuck her tongue out at the blonde. Anya ramped up to tell Raven exactly where to stick her tongue, when Lexa’s voice broke through her thoughts, ruining the moment. 

“Clarke was here,” Lexa said, holding up Clarke’s messenger bag. 

Lexa had found it by almost stepping on it. It was the one thing out of place, other than the office itself. Lexa let her eyes roam over Becca’s oddly immaculate office noting no sign of a struggle, forced entry or exit. The only contents of the bag were a water bottle, Raven’s granola bar and Lexa’s world maps book. 

Insults forgotten, all three girls shared a grim nod and began turning everything in Becca’s office inside out. After a few tense minutes, Anya called Lexa’s name and passed over a piece of paper she had found in one of Becca’s desk drawers. 

**_The City of Light_ **

**_MRI_ **

**_Clarke Griffin, Aged 18, Kinetic Absorber Omnipotent potential._ **

Lexa’s features quickly devolved into a frown as she scanned the rest of the sheet. 

**_Unassigned # - discovered in the state of Washington at the age of 18. Exhibits idiosyncratic ability to absorb energy from organic life forms. Offspring of a non-mutant and a physically omnipotent mutant, #003._ ** **_Moderate probability of omnipotence. Approach with caution. High collection priority..._ **

Lexa didn’t need to keep reading the sheet to know what Anya had found, so she handed it back before she could tear it to shreds like she wanted. How dare they come to Franko’s, take Clarke and leave such an obvious calling card. It was probably a trap, but it was one Lexa had to fall for if she was going to have any chance of getting Clarke back.

“Lexa,” Anya’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. “Why does Clarke have a City of Light MRI sheet?”

“You know why, Anya,” Lexa sighed.

“Clarke got an MRI?” Raven frowned, “I feel like I would know if she’d been to the doctors recently."

Octavia peeked in from her spot at the door, “City of Lights? It sounds like a song from The Weeknd." 

“Where is the Doc, anyway?” Raven looked around the office as if Becca would magically appear next to them and punish them for breaking into her office. 

Ignoring them all, Lexa interlocked her fingers behind her back, looking every bit the nickname she’d earned. “The real question is, how did they know about Clarke?” 

“What about Clarke?” Octavia said, wincing as she patted her arms with a tissue Raven had found in the office. Her fight with Charlotte had left her with more nicks and cuts than she was used to and she'd been too impatient to let Niko heal her. 

“You know what’s going on, don’t you?” Raven said, hobbling over the broken glass and into Anya’s face. “Spill.” Raven Reyes had no respect for personal space, especially when trying to figure something out. 

Anya looked to Lexa, and upon receiving a quick nod, handed Raven the MRI sheet. 

Raven studied the sheet. “City of Light?”

“It’s a research compound for mutants,” Lexa said matter-of-factly. No use sugar coating it. 

“So, it's not a bop I missed?” Octavia fully stepped into the room, closing the door—what was left of it—with a crunch behind her. 

“And this MRI thing?” Raven said, holding up their only real clue. 

“Mutant Registry Information,” Lexa sighed, knowing it was time to be honest. “It is a mutant profile compiled by the City of Light for collection purposes.”

“Collection?!” Raven’s voice rose a few octaves. “Why do they have a collection sheet for Clarke?” Raven waved the sheet, crinkling it at the same time. 

“Blondie and Becca were likely kidnapped by City of Light mutants,” Anya took the sheet back from Raven, before the brunette could wrinkle the whole thing. 

“And Echo," Octavia added. "Bellamy said he hasn’t seen her anywhere,” 

“How do you know so much about this?” Raven said, taking a small step away from Anya and scrutinizing her. 

“That’s where you escaped from…” Octavia said, making eye contact with Lexa, “Isn’t it? Lincoln mumbles about it in his sleep sometimes.” A blush crept over Octavia’s face and ears, “Not that I sleep with him… next to him often.”

“I’m surprised Echo hasn’t reported you for violating parietals,” Raven said, crossing her arms as best she could on crutches.

“She’d have to report herself first,” Octavia shrugged. “Echo almost never sleeps in our room. Even less than Emori." Octavia made a gagging noise. "Don't make me think too much about it.” 

“We’re not here to talk about your sex lives,” Anya huffed. “Lexa and I know these people, and _we_ are going to figure this out. Stay out of the way.”

“It’s not just about you anymore," Octavia huffed back. "Becca is our teacher and Clarke and Echo are our friends. Emori is in the nursing ward because she almost lost her non-mutant hand to a tween tonight, and everyone is scared and confused. Whatever revenge rescue mission you have planned, I want in.” 

“I’m coming, too,” Raven said, stepping forward, almost falling.

“We don’t need either of you,” Anya growled, as she held Raven up. “Look at you!” If she could tie Raven down to a safe spot without Raven deriving some sick pleasure from it, she would.

“I don’t need my leg to manipulate tech,” Raven waved one of her crutches at her feet while balancing on the other. “Who better to break into a super secret mutant compound?” 

“She may have a point, Anya,” Lexa said, leaning against Becca’s desk, waiting for Anya to make her decision. Lexa had already made hers. Even though more people meant more liability and potential for being discovered, it also meant the ability to delegate and plan contingencies if any one part of her plan failed.

As if actually reading her mind, Anya said, “Fine. But if they slow us down...” 

“We won’t,” Octavia said, letting her blades slide out for dramatic effect.

“O, can you not?” Raven pointed to the small pools of blood already forming on the floor directly under Octavia’s blades. “Look at the mess you’re making!” 

“For once…” Anya mumbled, “I agree with Raven. It’s a covert rescue mission, not a bank robbery.”

Raven’s jaw dropped. It was one thing to agree with her, but it was a whole nother thing for Anya to say her first name. In their years-long rivalry/undefined courtship, Anya had called her any combination of creepy-nipples you could imagine, some creative insults related to her powers, and, when she was impatient, Reyes, but never Raven. And to be honest, she kinda liked the way it sounded on Anya’s lips. 

With a sulk, Octavia dejectedly withdrew her blades. 

“She could still be helpful, Anya,” Lexa said.

“Fine!” Anya said, angrily stomping on glass as she walked out of the office. “But if it gets us killed, I am so gonna murder all of you.”

“Then it’s agreed,” Lexa said, making her way to the door and motioning for Raven and Octavia to follow. “Let’s find Lincoln and the others. We need to go over the plan.”

* * *

By the time they made it to Octavia, Emori and Echo’s shared room, the biggest since it was a triple, their group had grown from four to six. They had picked up Lincoln on the way, and Emori was there, because it was her room and she was recovering. She would have gone to Murphy and Bellamy’s room, but, according to Murphy, Bellamy was being paranoid after the attack and was insufferable. 

At first, Anya balked at the idea of yet another non-Woods mutant being included in the plan, but she was worn down quickly by Raven’s threats to publicly air their DM history. Now they were an hour deep into the Woods’ story, but no closer to rescuing anyone missing from Franko’s.

Raven leaned against Emori and Echo’s bunk bed while Anya hovered nearby. Lexa was seated at the chair closest to the window. Emori stayed in her top bunk, occasionally adding to the dialogue but mostly texting Murphy. Octavia sat with Lincoln on top of her desk, holding hands.

“Wait, wait wait,” Octavia said, almost salivating at the mouth. “You had your very own Hunger Games?”

Anya groaned for the umpteenth time. 

Lincoln shook his head, “Not exactly. When omni HEDA test subjects reached puberty they were forced to participate in something called a conclave until only one omni remained.” Lincoln smiled sadly as Octavia wrapped her arm around his. “The surviving omni was offered a spot in HEDA and freedom for a price: genetic material and forced breeding.” 

“Eugenics...” Raven hissed.” Some freedom.”

“Non-omnis and semi-omnis were quickly discarded unless their powers proved useful,” Anya crossed her arms, not happy about sharing.

“Discarded?” Octavia said, holding tighter to Lincoln. 

“Why have omnis kill omnis?” Raven shook her head, “Why waste all the time and energy collecting them only to lose them?” 

“If you had 10 demi-gods hitting puberty, how long do you think you’d have before you lost control of them?” Anya said, crossing her arms. “Raise them, indoctrinate them, and make them earn their keep. HEDA omnis are the strongest, ruthless and most obedient secret mutant soldiers in existence.”

“What about you?” Emori asked, not bothering to get out of bed to get into the conversation. 

“What about us?” Anya scowled. 

Before Emori could answer, Octavia blurted out, “Are you all HEDA omnis?” Octavia looked up at Lincoln, who looked to Lexa and Anya for support.

A few minutes of tense silence passed, to the point that Octavia was going to repeat her question when Lexa said, “I'm the only HEDA omni in this group. I survived my conclave and escaped shortly thereafter.”

“You…”

“Murdered mutant children with my powers to avoid being murdered myself.” Lexa finished the sentence. “ At the time, I didn’t know I had another option.”

Raven had to sit down, “Wow.” Octavia blinked a few times as if clearing her vision would change what she had heard. Emori on the other hand did not seem phased. She was also on enough pain killers to knock out a horse.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Lincoln said, looking Octavia in the eyes. Octavia nodded, but didn’t respond.

“We’re not just trying to save Clarke, Becca and Echo,” Lexa said, trying to move on from the topic. “We are saving the kids from their conclaves. Clarke was going to be part of the rescue.”

“How were you fitting Clarke into this?” Raven asked.

“Alie’s power is mental manipulation, an-” Lincoln said.

“Isn’t manipulation only for people with physical powers?” Octavia interupted, honestly curious. 

“Becca’s categories aren’t exact,” Lincoln explained. “Powers can draw between the lines. Alie can manipulate people’s minds, but only if they touch her willingly. Her mind control only lasts so long after someone stops touching her.”

“Clarke was plan C,” Lexa said.

“Literally?” Raven laughed for the first time since their impromptu meeting started. “Couldn’t come up with anything more original than C?” 

“We already have plans A and B,” Lexa said. 

“Which are?”

“It's safer if you don't know right now,” Anya scowled, fuming at how much Lexa was revealing to them. 

“Plan C is what? If Alie found you and tried to attack during the rescue, Clarke would touch her?” Raven tapped her chin for a moment. “And, I don’t know, get herself mind controlled?!”

“Not necessarily.” Lexa looked out the room’s only window, taking a moment before saying, “I think if she had had enough practice, her power would override Alie’s.”

“...and kill her,” Emori added, earning glares from Raven and Lexa. “What?” Emori said, throwing up her non-injured hand, “It doesn’t take Raven-level genius to know that if Clarke can absorb energy, has to wear gloves and can never touch anyone, that she’s probably life threatening." 

“No, I wouldn’t let that happen,” Lexa said more to herself than the room. “It would be enough to drain Alie, so that we can get away or capture her if possible.”

“That’s a big if,” Emori said, always the skeptic. 

“What makes you think her power can beat Alie’s?” Raven said, all sarcasm gone from her tone. 

Lexa didn’t answer. 

“Lexa,” Lincoln said softly, “They can’t help if they don’t know.”

Anya answered for her, giving Lexa a break, “There was a kinetic omni before her. Her specialty was light energy.”

“She could override Alie,” Lincoln supplied. “We weren’t exactly sure how she did it, but she did.”

“Okay,” Raven said, leaning forward in her chair. “Where is she?”

“She…” Anya cleared her throat. “She was murdered.” Raven watched as everyone in the Woods clan reacted differently to the statement. Lincoln looked down at his feet. Anya scowled at her, but Raven knew from experience this particular scowl had no bite behind it. And Lexa… Lexa stared straight ahead, a sad look upon her face.

“Oh,” Octavia’s voice broke the spell. “By Alie?”

“Read the room, Octavia!” Raven said, smacking Octavia with the tip of one of her crutches. Octavia moved away from the offending instrument mouthing an apology.

“By Nia Queen,” Lexa said, still staring straight ahead.

“The Ice pendeja?” Raven growled, clutching her bandaged leg. 

“Costia… she posed a threat to Alie and was my…” Lexa paused, finally looking Raven in the face. “We wouldn't be here without her.” 

Her gaze turned to Anya. “I thought if I could get Clarke to the point of control of her manipulation powers, we could have her as backup if all else failed.”

“Did Clarke agree to help?” Raven frowned. “She never talked to me about a secret rescue mission.”

“It wouldn’t be a secret if she had, Raven,” Octavia scoffed.

“She did not agree," Lexa said. "She did not know until tonight.”

“Wait,” Octavia said, furrowing her brow. “But Clarke’s not an omni… or is she?”

Lexa and Raven’s eyes met. They had been the only two to see Clarke revive Lexa. While they waited for Clarke to return, the two had discussed the display of power and the rose bush incident and determined that anything less than creating energy to push into Lexa would have killed Clarke, if her red hair was anything to go by. 

“O!” A male voice echoed in the hallway. “O!”

“Oh shit,” Octavia groaned. “It’s Bell.”

“It’s one thing to include nipples on sticks, Carrie, and cockroach-lover over here,” Anya hissed. “But I am not including trigger-happy gilmore in this plan.”

Octavia and Raven glared at Anya. Emori shrugged. 

“O!” Bellamy’s voice had reached the door. 

“Hide,” Octavia whispered. No one moved. She shut off the lights and opened the door just enough to greet her brother. He looked harried in his sweatpants and a faded graphic tee. 

“Hey, Bell. What do you want?”

“That’s a greeting after everything we’ve gone through today, O,” Bellamy tried to sneak a peek behind Octavia, who did her best to get in his way. “Echo is still missing. Is she here?”

“No. I haven’t seen her.” It was an honest answer. Octavia only remembered seeing the older mutant at breakfast, acting weird, eating more pudding than usual. "You know I would have texted you if I had."

“Okay," Bellamy nodded. "I wanted to check on you, too. Like a big brother should.”

“I can handle myself, Bell,” Octavia scoffed. “I’m not five hiding under the floorboards from social services.” 

“Okay. okay. I’m sorry. I’m just worried,” Bellamy shook his head. “You told me you got into a fight with the invaders.”

“The invaders?”

“The mutants who attacked the building.” 

“Oh. Yeah,” Octavia shrugged looking at her arms. “But I got fixed by Niko right before I came here. And Emori’s sleeping the attack off.”

“Good,” Bellamy scratched his head, trying to come up with something else to say. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You too,” Octavia smiled. “I’m glad you were safe.”

“If you see Echo, let me know?”

“Right. If I see her, you’ll be the first to know.” Octavia started pushing the door closed. “Bye!”

“Nope.” Bellamy’s foot blocked the door from closing completely. The door, and Octavia, flew back as Bellamy pushed into the room. “What in the mutant hell are you doing with the forest freaks?”

“Watch your mouth, creep,” Anya stepped into Bellamy’s space. “You’re outnumbered by these 'freaks'.”

Bellamy’s glare moved from Anya to Raven then Lexa and finally landed on Lincoln. “What is going on?”

“We’re havin' an orgy, Bellamy,” Emori slurred. “What does it look like?”

“Yeah,” Raven said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “No incest allowed, and the Woods aren't related, so I suggest you move on out,” 

“Since when are you so cozy with the lab rats, Raven?” Bellamy shook his head in disgust. “Today’s been super messed up, Echo was threatening to run away from Franko’s this morning, now she’s missing and the school is half frozen in ice. Don’t be dicks.”

“You started it,” Anya said, daring Bellamy to make her night.

“Sorry, Bell,” Octavia said, stepping between the two hot-heads. “Everyone’s on edge here. Clarke’s missing and maybe Becca, too. We’ve been trying to think of a rescue plan.”

“A rescue plan? Does that mean you know where they are?”

“That’s it,” Anya said, roughly pushing her way past Octavia, and raising her hand, palm forward, to Bellamy’s eye level. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t erase his memory right now.”

Lexa sighed. This was not going to plan at all, and Clarke felt farther away from her every moment that passed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did that go where you thought it would? No? good. *cackles in author* Happy almost February 2021!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Message me at Mehworld on tumblr.


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